


Adorable Can Describe a Grown Man in a Suit

by HopeforSabriel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Danger, Fear of losing, Fighting, Gabe being a bad-ass lawyer, John never alive in the story, Lawyer Gabriel, M/M, Michael secret agent, Sabriel - Freeform, Sam dealing with guilt John's death, Shooting, Teacher Sam, Who can they trust?, death of John Winchester is the death referenced, fluff to start, past catching up with them, reference to character murder, reference to crappy childhood, smut to follow, starts at a coffee shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 57,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeforSabriel/pseuds/HopeforSabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dateless and a little sad about that, Sam takes his grading to a coffee shop. While he's optimistic about getting work done, he wasn't prepared to see a honey-dipped hunk walk in and look absolutely adorable. He wasn't going to accomplish anything.</p><p>Little did he know finding this hunk of man was not going to be the only surprise his week had in store for him and his brother. Their past was going to come knocking. The twists and turns take the couple through the wringer as they find out the truth about John's death, all the while trying to keep each other safe from each challenge that comes their way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adorable Meets Sam

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fan fic, and I'm enjoying the process. Please leave your thoughts, as I'm sure they can only help me get better! Many thanks, and I hope you enjoy!

Sam felt the strap of his messenger bag cut in to his shoulder. He knew that putting off grading his students' papers would eventually catch up with him. They had to get done, and he couldn't stay home to do it. Dean was being hospitable to his latest fling, and he couldn't listen to the evidence through the walls anymore.

Coffee and focus. He needed both of them. The coffee shop across town gave him an excuse to get a bit of exercise in before he sat, undoubtably for hours, inserting omitted periods and correcting "there" for "their" or "they're" for the thousandth time. They were young. There was still time to save them. 

Seventh graders were gross creatures, somewhere between being adorable little children and grown adults. They couldn't control their hormones, nor could they figure out what they were supposed to be doing with their bodies, but in his class, they tried. He loved every single one of them, especially the troubled kids. The ones who didn't have the cookie cutter life, the ones who had to get themselves to school, the ones who didn't know if they were going to eat that night or if anyone was going to be at home. He was that kid growing up. He knew. If it wasn't for Dean, he would have been just another statistic that proved shitty childhoods lead to dropping out and drugs. He tried to be that rock for these kids. 

It was easy to fall into that parental role with them. He didn't have any kids of his own, nor did he have anyone warming his bed at the moment. That was a crass thought, but he didn't choose celibacy. It chose him. Between his last few lovers, he was left feeling uninspired. They didn't have that thing he wanted. He couldn't put his finger on it either. On paper, both Ruby and Brady were great. In reality, they were selfish and unsupportive of him working all the time. They thought teachers got to run out of school on the heels of the kids and slide until they waltzed back in five minutes before class started. In reality, weekends were spent grading, planning, prepping, and usually a fair bit of research. Reading for pleasure only happened on his breaks.

He felt the chill of the February air hit his cheeks, noticing that the clear sky wasn't keeping any of the sun's warmth trapped like the clouds did. He should have grabbed more than a hoodie, but it was too late. There was no way he was walking back into the apartment until he knew the coast was clear. It was his brother for god's sake. Gross.

He arrived at the shop, "A Little Shot of Heaven" noticing that it was pretty empty. I mean, it was 2pm on a Monday. A Monday of a week long break. Everyone was hopping the train to Tahoe to ski or gamble. He wasn't going to see any crowds for a while. Thank god. He needed to concentrate and get this stuff done. While they didn't really want their work back, not really, they wanted to see it. Curious little brats, he thought with a smile. 

Sam had his coffee and vanilla scone in hand, a splurge to help him get through the next few hours, when he saw some one out of the corner of his eye. He was at the counter in a suit, tie, and shiny shoes. The suit was black. No, that didn't seem right. It was onyx. The same black of deep space. It almost looked like the man was wearing a shadow. It stood out so much because his honey colored hair glowed in the sun and looked like heaven had touched it with all the love it possessed. He was striking, for sure, and Sam was staring. Stop staring, Sam.

He tried. He opened up his portfolio with this week's narrative essay on a moment in time that changed their lives. He loved giving these types of assignments more as a window into the lives of his students than for the purpose of grading them. If he knew them better, he could connect with them more. That meant he could find what motivates them, what gives them purpose, and where their excitement for life lies. It was a careful game he played, but he needed his students to feel like they were worth the possibilities out there. So often, they didn't get that from anyone else. 

He glanced up to see the man still waiting at the counter, playing with the skinny black tie, rolling it between his fingers. He wore thick, black sun glasses that gave him a retro vibe. He caught the pink of this man's tongue swipe over his bottom lip just before he used two hands to grasp at the biggest blended beverage Sam had ever seen. Whipped cream, drizzle, chocolate swirled; it looked like diabetes in a cup. It looked good, but it wasn't really Sam's thing. He stuck with coffee and milk, sometimes cream, and on a really big day, a little vanilla syrup. 

Oh god. The man just licked the whipped cream off his drink, then off his own fingers, and smiled. Sam wasn't just staring; he was leering. He was leering at a stranger in a very sharp suit, doing unspeakable things with his tongue right in front of him. Sam needed to get laid. Seriously. It was becoming a medical emergency at this point if he was sexualizing strangers in coffee shops who just happened to pornographically lick their fingers when they get a little whipped cream on them.

Focus. Sam adjusted himself in his seat, leaning farther over the work in front of him, and specifically not looking up when the man started walking his way. He was by no means peeking with his peripheral vision to notice that this adorable creature was sitting not two tables away. Adorable. Yes, he'd said it. He was. He was very business and matter of fact while being totally childlike in his joy with his drink. That counted as adorable. 

Sam most certainly wasn't watching as Adorable grabbed his brief case, placed it on the table and got out work of his own. He meant to groan internally, but it must have slipped.

"Excuse me, but are you OK?" Adorable was looking right at him with concern on his face, and oh no...were those honey colored eyes? 

Sam shook his head, and found his words, "Sorry. Just feeling sorry for the amount of work I have to do." See? He could think on his feet! He wasn't at all concerned that sitting next to this guy would be so distracting that he wouldn't be able to focus on a single run-on sentence before him.

"I feel ya! I have a major case and an endless set of depositions to read through. I'm in hiding, though. I needed a sugar fix and couldn't look my brother in the eye until I got this done. Don't tell anyone." And with a wink, Honey-eyed Adorable Man adjusted his focus back on the files before him. 

Don't tell anyone. Who was he going to tell? Dean? Um, no. Dean would tease him ruthlessly, as only a brother could. His dry spell has already earned him some daily taunting, and it honestly was sweet that Dean cared, but didn't help his situation.

Before he could stop himself, Sam uttered forcefully, "I'm Sam, by the way. I won't tell on you if you don't tell on my for getting behind on my work as well." Smile, stupid! A weak half-smile twitched on his face. Smooth. Are you trying to flirt now? This is why you were single. No game.

"Well, nice to meet you Sam. I'm Gabriel. You can call me Gabe. This little rendez-vous can be our little secret." Gabe. Adorable Gabe winked again. Sam felt a sheen of sweat break out on his upper lip. He was toast. He had a crush. A crush on an adorable lawyer named Gabriel, call me Gabe. 

That moment of eye contact felt like a week, and yet they both stared at each other without turning away. Sam knew this was crazy, but he really couldn't help himself. The moment lost its mojo when one of the baristas came up with a warm croissant and placed it in front of Gabriel. Sam was relieved and forced himself to block out everything but the paper that Jayden had written. Come on kiddo. Remember your commas!

The trick worked. While feeble sounding in the beginning, focusing on the writing was actually quite a good technique to forget about how he had started to feel that full body flush when he looked into Gabriel's eyes. That need to move a little closer, that itch to ask another question just to see him smile. He was screwed. 

Needing a stretch, he reached up and leaned back a little. Nope, that wasn't going to do the trick. He still couldn't get the kink out of his lower back, so he stood up and stretched, leaning back a bit until he felt the pop. The chairs were not comfortable for anyone over 6 feet tall. Sam was a lot over 6 feet tall. Sometimes he forgot that, or maybe he just wanted to forget that.

"Jesus! You're tall! You looked like a regular-sized human in the chair, but your cover is blown! You're a damned Sasquatch!" Gabe was gawking, mouth open, tiny bit of croissant a the corner, eyeing him up and down. "I should have known I'd never have a chance. Too pretty for me." The words were whispered, but Sam still heard them. 

Sam felt the laugh before he was conscious of it. "Too pretty? That's a new one! And a good one coming from you. You are way out of my league, so nice try with the self-depreciation."

"Your league? No, Sam. You are your own league. Look I'm not a shy guy. I know. Shocking." His hand went to his chest and his eyebrows shot up, "But I gotta tell you something. You are by far the best looking guy I've ever seen. If I'm not mistaking, we had a nice little flirty-thing going on there for a minute. So, that leads me to my next question."

"Which is?" Curious, and a little surprised by the very honest string of words flowing from that slightly crooked pair of lips. 

His eyes narrowed to the "serious" look people used when they wanted to make a point, " Do you have a weakness for short, slightly older men with an equally slight sugar addiction? Because if so, I may happen to know someone just your type." 

"Is that so?" Sam had crossed his arms and smiled, leaning his hips forward and opening his stance a bit. It was the posture he was most comfortable in, and one that showed his was just as wide in the shoulders as he was long in the legs. "What if I said yes? Would you introduce him to me? I mean, I'm not trying to be too presumptuous, but I do happen to have that very weakness, and I wouldn't mind going out to dinner with someone just like that. So if you think he might be interested, he could meet me at Figaro's tomorrow night at 7. Well, if he likes Italian." Where the hell had that confidence come from? Oh yea. I used to have that before.

"He does. He will. I have to go before I climb you like a tree in the middle of this caffeine drenched hole in the wall," he said as he swept the files off the table and into his brief case. Stood up, coming to Sam's chest, and eyed him with an intensity that would have made opposing council shiver. It made Sam shiver. 

Sam fell back on humor, "Tease."

"You're going to kill me. Tomorrow. 7. I know the place. I'll be there. Don't stand me up, Sammy, or I may have to stalk this particular establishment until the end of time just to try and catch your eye again." The wink. God, the wink again. His stomach felt like someone was using a paint brush to apply IcyHot and it made him suck in a breath. 

Sam watched him strut out the door. He was confident, proud, and a little cocky after landing a date with Sam. Sam felt the same way, and couldn't wait to meet him tomorrow. Oh god. He had a real date. Someone who thought he was special, and Sam got a little drunk on that as he scratched the back of his neck. There was more work to do, and now, with a date on the horizon, he knew it needed to get done. With any luck, he'd be too busy to work on it anymore this week.


	2. The Adorable Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam almost gave up before Gabe finally made it to the restaurant. Sparks fly, and the question is: Will they or won't they?

Dean wasn't home when Sam got back, but he could feel his cheeks aching from all the smiling he had been doing on his walk home. He kept thinking about how Gabe's eyes had danced when he looked up at Sam. That halo of blonde hair, begging to have his hands run through it. Hmmm. He was looking forward to tomorrow night. Did 

Sam pulled off his purple hoodie, the one with the greyhound on it, that said, Sierra Town Greyhounds, Running With the Best, and threw it on the back of the chair. He had gotten all the work he'd brought with him finished, but still knew there was another period of History he hadn't graded the projects for yet. That meant after dinner, he still had a few hours of grading before bed, with one more project to attack before tomorrow's dinner.

 

Gabriel couldn't believe his luck. He had stopped in for an emergency sugar injection, only to come face to face with a real live wet-dream. Best day ever. Sure, he didn't get through the depositions like he planned. He skimmed the first file, but he was only human. He'd noticed Sam as soon as he walked in. That sealed the deal. He was going to run in and grab his double shot mocha frappe and run, but he felt his mouth water more at the man with the long hair and a full day's work ahead of him. Those hands holding a mechanical pencil...they made it look like a toy. Gabriel loved being in charge of his work, but he had to admit that he loved feeling completely wrapped up in someone else's arms. Hands. Being held in hands like those, by that man. 

So he stayed. He walked over, not too close, and sat down. He wanted to strike up a conversation after a while, you know like, "Whatcha working on there cowboy?" or something equally terrible. His one-liners, while funny, were not usually what got him to second base. No, his ability to size up his situation and charge right on in, making the other person a little breathless, that was his trick. It worked on the witness stand. Let them think you are a fool, a little funny, someone not to be taken seriously, then eat them alive. It worked. And boy did he want to eat this man alive!

He heard the man moan, and he may have felt all the blood in his body rush down south. The sound was deep with only a little whine. He had to jump in say something. And he did. Low and behold the sex god even gave him a name. Sam. By the time he had to leave, Sam had asked him out on a date. Well, he may have dared him to a little bit. He didn't back down. Gabe liked that. 

The main question was this, Did they have to eat all of their dinner before going back to Gabe's and ripping each other's clothes off? Because if not, a drink would do just fine. Since Kali left to go back to India and left Gabriel to sulk in his too big apartment, he'd been...well...sulking. Shut up. He had way too many lollipops and far too many episodes of America's Top Model in the queue to consider himself happy. His bed was cold and empty. That wouldn't do. 

He made it back to the office in time to see Castiel leaving to court. The case he was working on wasn't for a few weeks, and Gabe always got the work done. It just may have been done by the very last possible millisecond. Cas didn't work that way. He was organized, organized, and well, organized. He had a To Do List that he both created and ticked off daily. He never put off for tomorrow what he could do today, unless that thing was fun. 

"Hello, Cassie! How's it going little bro?" 

Castiel took a deep breath, straightened his blue tie, and pulled on his tan trench coat. "Gabriel, I'm on my way to court. Did you get the depositions done yet? We have to research and verify everything that was said, as well as find out which line of we are going to take in court to protect our client."

Gabe smirked and snapped his fingers, "Piece of cake! They'll be done in a snap! Good luck in court, and don't worry about a thing. I've got a feeling this day is just going to keep going my way."

If rolling your eyes was a sport, then Castiel was a world champion. His baby blues was barely visible on their tour around his eye socket. It was something to behold. Of course, Gabriel enjoyed being the cause behind the dramatic eye roll. It gave him a warm fuzzy feeling, right in his gut. 

The day went on just as anticipated. He was able to wrangle a few interns to help him get his work done, the donut lady saved a glazed with sprinkles for him, and one of the interns who were sucking up to the partners...him being one of them...made a coffee run for another gorgeous mocha frappe. He was living the good life with nothing on his mind but tomorrow night. 

Speaking of tomorrow night, what to wear? Should he come straight from work in his suit, dressed to knock Sammy off his feet? Or should he go for a more casual look, well groomed, but still putting his best features out there? He had another whole day to wait. 

 

It turned out that one more day came rather quickly. Gabriel was slammed the next morning with a new client, a new case, and a whole big bag of guilt he was going to try to mitigate. His client being guilty wasn't the end of the world. Being a defense attorney, he was supposed to be saving the unjustly accused from going to prison. He still was. However, now it was just as much about making the DA create an air tight case. If they couldn't do that, his clients deserved to walk free. This one was going to make him earn his paycheck, but then again, that was what he was good at.

He didn't have time to head home to change before dinner with Sam. As a matter of fact, he got lost on the way to the restaurant, and was a good 15 minutes late. He walked in to see Sam alone in a corner booth, looking at his phone. That big beautiful man took a big deep breath. The hunch in his shoulders gave Gabe a pit in his stomach. Sam thought Gabe wasn't coming and looked dejected. Oh no. Sam shook his head and went to grab something on the seat, preparing to stand up and leave when Gabe finally made it to the table. 

"Leaving before the special gets here? Sam. I thought I had you pegged as a guy you would hold out for the good stuff!" With an eye brow waggle, Gabe slid into the seat across from Sam. The smile that broke out on Sam's face was electric. If someone could bottle and sell it, there would be no need for antidepressants any longer. It might even cure cancer. "I'm sorry to leave you hanging. I got lost." A little more sheepishly. 

Sam was already back in the booth, playing with the cuff of his green plaid shirt worn over a blue t-shirt. Casual, but on him, it looked perfect. Some kind of sexy lumberjack vibe, and Gabe loved it. 

"Well, I kind of thought that you weren't coming." Gabe didn't notice the disappointment hadn't quite left his voice, but his smirk gave it a playful undertone. 

"My fault. Next time, I'll just call if I'm going to be a tiny bit late. Of course, that means I'll have to get your number. You know, for emergencies like this one." Gabe ran his fingers through his hair and watched Sam's eyes track his movements. Interesting. 

Sam gave his head a slight shake, "Next time? You sure there's going to be one? I mean, you were late. That's one strike against you."

"Oh I think I can make it up to you." With that, he picked up the water glass and took a sip. Leaning back a little, getting comfortable, he grinned. "Enough of that, tell me about yourself, Sammy. Spare no details."

Sam curled an errant lock of brown hair behind his ear, "Well, I'm a seventh grade English and History teacher. I live with my brother. Have since he turned 18 and he could get his own place. My parents are both dead. Long story for another time. I love my job, and apparently picking up guys at the coffee shop. What about you?"

"I'm sorry about your folks. Sounds like your brother is a good egg, though. I'm a defense attorney with my brother at Novak and Novak. We started our practice together about ten years ago, and it took off a bit faster than we expected. Lots of work, not a lot of time for anything else. But I think I am planning on making some time in the future." Gabe took Sam's smile as an indication that he wasn't alone in those feelings. Sam's hand was warm, wrapped around his. He wasn't sure which one of them reached, but he didn't care. It felt like a lifeline, like he didn't want to let go.

"Awwww! You two are so cute! How long have you been together?" The waitress showed up and broke the bubble they didn't realize they'd made for themselves. 

Not one to miss a beat, "First date, actually. But you see there Sam? She approves. That's a good sign, right?" 

Sam closed his eyes and gave a soft laugh. "Seems like it. Can I get a beer and the spinach and cheese ravioli? What do you want, Gabe?" Sam passed the menu to the waitress, waiting for Gabriel to answer.

"Surprise me! I love seafood and pasta. Bring me what'd you have. No spoilers!" He winked at the waitress and sent her off with a smile.

Sam's smile faltered. He pulled his hand back and sat up a little straighter. Gabe wasn't going to overlook something like that. The nonverbal communication of someone on the witness stand was his forte. This kind of change simply wouldn't do. 

"Sam, why the long face? Are you allergic to shellfish or something?" Gabe tilted his head and tried to catch Sam's eye. Sam took a second to look back.

"Ah its nothing. I'm fine. Do you really just let other people pick your food for you?" Sam questioned with a little disbelief that Gabe would trust his food choice to a stranger. 

Gabe didn't budge, "Not so fast. No changing the subject. What was that? You were happy, then I ordered, and you got sad. We can't have a sad Sammy. Women will weep. Babes will howl. Your happy face is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Your sad face looks like I tried to kill your puppy. Its too much for my heart to bear. I'll do anything to repair the damage!" The more he talked, the more convinced he became that he would. He would do anything to make Sam smile. 

"Its Sam. Only my brother gets to call me Sammy, and that is because I don't have a choice in the matter." He was stalling. "Fine. Don't look at me like that. It was the wink. You winked at her. I thought the wink for me was special, and it just turned me into a teenage girl when I saw you do it to her. God this is so embarrassing. Why am I admitting this to you?" His head was in his hands. The poor guy was truly mortified.

"Don't feel bad Sam. People confess to me all the time. Part of the job." He tapped the table right under Sam's hand with this index finger. "But, hey. That wink was nothing to me. It was a kindness. The wink I gave you was not the same as that one. Did you see any evidence that I wanted to rip her clothes off? No. That is because I only have eyes for you. I will make a concentrated effort to tone down the charm it it bothers you."

Sam looked up at him and narrowed his eyes. Green. No brown. Hazel? Gabe would need to get closer, maybe study them. Yes. Definitely. 

 

Sam felt like he was on an emotional teeter totter. He was excited to arrive, bummed that he was stood up, elated to see Gabe, and jealous that he winked at the waitress. He felt 17 again, and he was trying to check out Becky Rosen, but then got caught checking out Adam instead. He needs to get out more, so he can get the hang of dating. This was terrible and wasn't going to lead to date number two at the rate he was going. 

Then Gabe pleaded with him to tell him what was wrong. Those eyes, like sun-kissed whiskey, they melted his heart. He caved and confessed his insecurities, which truly made him sound like a wimp. Or at least Dean would have called him a sissy. Not because he was with a dude, but because he was acting like a chick. 

The beer came just in time. A tiny edge taken off the date. That might help. Six more of these and he might be able to actually relax. 

"So, Sam. Do you have a three date rule that you live your life by?" Gabe grinned and sent his eyebrows closer to that nest of golden hair. 

Sam almost spit his beer out. "Um, no. I don't have a strict time policy with, um, that kind of thing."

Gabe leaned closer, "That is music to my ears."

Dinner came they spent time learning about each other. They talked video games, books, politics (and didn't even argue) as well as crap reality T.V. finding out that, yes, Sam does watch ANTM. Sam spent more time staring that normally would, but who could blame him? Gabe was a captive audience, trapped in the booth, looking a him. I mean, it would be rude not to maintain eye contact. By that time, Sam was on beer number three, but they'd been there a while, and he was a big guy. However, he had forgotten to be a nervous wreck. They had helped.

Desert came, Sam with his fruit sorbet enjoyed watching Gabe take down a huge chocolate brownie sundae that was intended for two. He had taken off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and leaned over to make sure he didn't miss a drop. Gabe's tongue peeked out to grab a bit of brownie at the corner of his mouth and left a trail of chocolate sauce all over his cheek and chin.

"You missed a spot!" Sam chuckled. "Seriously, you look like a kid. You might need to go wash your face." Gabe looked up at him with a split second of reservation, almost anticipating more teasing. Sam's heart melted a bit, "But you look cute. Its cute on you." Sam dipped his finger in the sauce and bopped him on the nose, "See? Now that's adorable."

Gabriel broke into a smile and said, "Sammy, you might be surprised what I could do with that chocolate syrup if there weren't so many witnesses right now. You look even more delicious that this dessert." 

Sam didn't blush often, but he knew how he looked. He'd been embarrassed and teased as a kid. He would have red cheeks, a flush up his neck, and even a little on his chest. He knew he must have been absolutely glowing at this point because he was thinking about what would happen if he just leaned over and licked that syrup off Gabe's face. What if he pulled him close and then licked into his mouth. What if he pulled them into the restroom, and...

"You are so cute when you blush. I wonder how far down that pink hue goes? Wanna left me find out?" Gabe's eyes raked from Sam's cheeks, over his neck, and down his chest. "I mean, for science, and all. It should be documented how the wild Sasquatch reacts to verbal propositions. I might publish a paper later." 

Sam laughed. Not only was this guy gorgeous. He was. He looked like a gift from god, with those eye lashes, that crooked grin, and he really wanted to run his fingers through that hair. Oh. His hair. But he was funny, too. He knew when he needed to lighten the mood. After all Sam had been through in his life, serious was something he didn't need all the time. He needed fun. Funny. Laughter. 

"You wanna find out? Maybe we should get outta here. That kind of observation should be done in a controlled environment. You never know how your subject will react to such close scrutiny." 

Gabe's jaw dropped. He stood up, laid down two hundred dollar bills, put his left hand up to stop Sam's impending protest and grabbed Sam with his right. "We are so getting out of here. You're all mine Sam. All mine," he whispered into Sam's ear before he could stand all the way up.

Sam wanted nothing more.


	3. Adorable Underware

Gabe hadn't had anything but water with the exception of this white wine with a delicious looking seafood scampi. He offered to drive, and Sam decided to take him up on it. Sam was aware that he was safe with Gabe. Plus, if there was any trouble, he could more than defend himself. He'd been taught by his dad and Dean to be able to take on any adversary. His dad's job as a bounty hunter after being in the Marines left little room for his sons to NOT be fighters. He wasn't going to leave them unable to protect themselves at the very least. He hoped the boys would take over for him when he was older, keep the Winchester Chasers going, but after he died, neither had the stomach for that kind of life anymore. Dean went into the classic car restoration business, and Sam stayed in school. Literally. The point was, he wasn't worried.

Sam was impressed by the BMW, sleek and blue, not the red he had expected. Even yellow wouldn't have surprised him with Gabe's big personality. The seats were heaven. The leather was soft and buttery, a far cry from the scratchy cloth seats in his Honda. The radio was set to Top 40 hits and even though Sam leaned towards the alternative side, Justin Timberlake was bringing sexy back, and he couldn't help but groove to it. 

Gabe's predatory gaze had eased up a bit on the drive. They were fifteen minutes in, and Sam wasn't regretting a moment. He'd felt hot in his layers while they were eating and been fighting the arousal that was coming in waves, but when Gabe grabbed him and drug him through the restaurant and to the car, his erection had decided to stay. He guessed he liked someone to take charge. That had always been Sam's role. In all his previous sexual escapades and relationships, he was the take charge guy. That might have been what he'd forgotten in his dry spell, either that or it was that Gabriel did something to him. His presence was huge, and even thought Sam had almost ten inches in height on the guy, it didn't feel that way to Sam. Gabe was larger than life. 

"So, are you sure you still want to do this? I mean my caveman move was hot and all, but if you're having second thoughts, there are no hard feelings." Gabe didn't take his eyes off the road, but he did increase his grip on the steering wheel. 

"Unless you are, I haven't. I'm curious to see what kind of findings you are able to record, if you are conscious enough to do so, after I'm done with you," Sam leaned closer with every word until he said the last five against the shell of Gabe's ear. He put his hand of Gabe's thigh, just above his knee, and felt the heat radiating through the soft fabric of his suit.

He felt Gabe shiver under his words and his touch. "Oh no, I'm all in. I have an amazing attention span when properly inspired, and Sammy, you inspire me."  
Gabe pulled into the drive way right as Sam licked his ear and whispered, "Sam. Call me Sam," bringing the lobe into his mouth and sucking. 

Gabe slammed on the breaks, jerking them both forward, Sam biting down and Gabe howling, "Ouch!"

"I'm sorry!" Sam reached up to touch his ear, checking to make sure he hadn't drawn blood. "I was going for sexy, not take your ear off!"

"My fault. I lost control of my leg when you sucked on my ear. But we are here. No need for anymore near misses. Come here," Gabe growled and took Sam's face in his hands. He came close enough to kiss him, but took a moment to just look. Sam's eyes had already fallen closed in anticipation, but he opened them back up when nothing happened. Gabe was right there, looking straight into his eyes. "You are too good for me, but just for tonight, I'm going to pretend that you don't know that and enjoy every second with you." A soft kiss, just barely touching his lips, then a longer one with more pressure followed.

Sam let Gabe control the pace. Too good for him? No, Sam was the lucky one. Gabe was very intelligent, amazingly funny, and breathtaking. The kiss was proving his point. It was a good thing he was sitting because he was weak in the knees. He'd never been treated like he was breakable. He was so much bigger and stronger than his other partners. The gentleness and sheer care going into the kiss hit him in his chest, making it seize up with emotion. 

"Gabe," Sam gasped. He didn't have a point. He just need to say his name. God it felt so good to be in his hands. The lips on that man. 

Gabe took that as a sign to step it up. He opened his mouth, gently taking Sam's upper lip and sucking which was apparently connected to Sam's dick because he let out a moan that could have made a sailor blush. 

"Oh we have to get out of this car. I need more space to take you apart in. There is too much of you to see in this tiny car. Out." Gabe kissed him once more, then let go of his face and opened the car door. He was around to Sam's side to grab his hand before Sam could steady his legs enough to stand. Forget trying to hide the bulge in his pants, Gabe was obviously in the same boat. He needed to be horizontal with him right now, was all Sam could think.

He followed Gabe to the door, and inside. The apartment, while connected to the complex, was really more of its own little townhouse. It was at the end of the group and two stories. The inside was very silver, black and white. White floors, silver walls, and black everything else. There were splashes of color, but the utilitarianism of the space was clear. It was meant to look expensive, and it did. Parties in this place must have been amazing with the open floor plan created around the kitchen. Plenty of plush seating around the big black couch. Little vignettes of tables, chairs, and track lighting. Sam felt a little intimidated, until Gabe pinched his ass to get his attention. 

"Over here, Sam. This way," Gabe grabbed Sam's hand and lead him to the left of the living area, to a door. It was the third door they passed, and Gabe actually took out a key. "I have a lot of company, but no one is allowed in here. This is my sanctuary, so I keep it safe."

Once the door was opened, Sam understood why. The room was a buttery yellow with huge windows. The oak bed and its blue duvet was a far cry from the coldness of the rest of the house. A red leather chair and an oak side table were in the corner between two windows, and the ocean painting that was right above it was bright and cheery with a bright green kite flying on a breeze so strong Sam could almost smell it.

"OK, now this is more like it. I was wondering who even lived in the rest of that house. Its nice, Gabe, but it didn't feel right. This feels right."

"Glad you approve, but it isn't a commentary on my decorating that I want from you right now." Gabe reached up and thread his fingers in Sam's hair, pulling him down. They were eye to eye when Gabe continued, "I have other, more pressing matters I'd like to attend to. I remember something about documenting some changes in coloring?" It came out as a question, but Sam didn't wait for more of the banter. He leaned in and felt their lips touch again. He opened his mouth, and started worshiping Gabe's cheek, his chin, down his jawline, to his ear. When his nose was buried in Gabe's hair he took a deep breath to find that he smell like cotton candy and rain. He smelled as sweet as his hair was soft. Gossamer tendrils caressed his face while he continued kissing down his neck to the juncture with his shoulder. 

"Oh, god. Sam. Yes. That is amazing." Gabe was clinging to him, and then went rigid. "Shit. My back. Oh crap, my back. Cramp!"

Sam pulled back quickly, looking for signs of injury. He found Gabe's back bowed, leaning over the arm Sam had curved just above his ass. It looked like he was trying to do a back flip over Sam's arm. He really wasn't trying to break him, but damned if he wasn't doing it anyway.

"Gabe! Shit. Let me help you up!" He placed both his hands in the center of Gabe's back and pulled him back to standing slowly, looking in his eyes to gauge the amount of pain he was still in. 

"Oh, you know, I kinda forgot I left the circus. Haven't been keeping up on my contortionist stretches, and that is my fault. With kissing like that, I just fell back into my old routines. No seriously, though. I'm fine. I just think that before I get anymore injuries, we should probably get on the bed. Its softer there. Less chance for accidents." Gabe's hand was on Sam's cheek, rubbing his thumb over his cheek bone, a glint in his eye.

Sam was less than convinced, "Gabe if this is a bad idea, I can get a cab. I didn't come here to destroy you. Swear." His head was hanging with defeat a second time this evening. 

"Oh hell no you don't. You owe me some scientific research. I risked life and limb here. This idea is great. Its awesome. You are not taking a cab until I have done a thorough examination." Eyebrows high and a smirk. If there was a kink Sam had, he thinks it might be brewing in every sassy answer Gabe gave. 

"Only if you're sure you can handle it, Novak. I'd hate to break you." Sam's knees were at the bed, and with the softest push, Gabe sent him over backwards. 

Gabe became a jungle cat, limbs moving with grace and determination. "I'm going to be the one who breaks you. You'll be begging me in no time." 

Sam was sure he was right. He was already to beg him. Each button was given a flick of his wrist and popped open, but the next one had to wait almost a full thirty seconds of anticipation as Gabe's eyes memorized the next section of revealed flesh. It was still under his t-shirt, but that t-shirt clung to the muscles underneath, outlining them with remarkable clarity. Sam felt like his skin was going to catch fire from his gaze. 

When all the buttons were no longer doing their jobs, Gabe shoved up the t-shirt and wasted no time getting his mouth on Sam's abs. He outlined each abdominal with his tongue, licking, mouthing, and sucking his way up to his chest. Sam was shaking. It was so slow, so sensual, that he wasn't sure he could endure it. He wanted to roll them over and speed it all up, but then he wouldn't feel like he was floating on clouds, dizzy with lust. 

"You taste amazing. I think that chocolate syrup couldn't improve on your skin," Sam barely understood him, but forgave him talking with his mouth full, since his mouth was full of Sam. 

Then electricity ran through his body. Gabe had his nipple between his lips, sucking and rolling it in between his teeth. Not biting down, but more nibbling at it. His back arched off the bed and he grabbed Gabe with both hands, moaning, "Oh fuck."

With a swipe of his tongue, Gabe lifted his head up, "Oh, Sasquatch likes. Yes, flushing at the neck and along the pectorals. I'd better go lower and check for signs lower on the body." He wriggled down Sam's body and left a trail of kisses with him. He got to his belt line, and licked across it while he unbuckled Sam's black belt. Kissing over his hip bones, Gabe unbuttoned and unzipped until he was looking right at Superman underwear. 

"Oh, now that is adorable. You got all dressed up for me and left on your under-roos. My sexy little nerd, you." Gabe's hand was on his erection before Sam could remember why he should feel embarrassed. With one push of his palm, Sam forgot his own name. Gabe was all he could think about.

"Oh. Gabe, god that feels. It feels. Wow, yes." Gibberish. He was speaking gibberish now. He couldn't keep his body still, but he wanted to let Gabe do what he wanted. His instincts were perfect so far. Yes, do what you want. 

Which was apparently what Gabe planned on doing. He had his mouth on Sam, never taking off the underwear, licking a stripe up his cock, and that is where Sam broke.

"Fuck yes, yes, yes, yes!" He started panting. Begging with his hips raised, for Gabe to give him more. 

"My sweet man. Oh. You are perfect. So amazing. Let me help you with that," Gabe crooned and had Sam's bare skin on his lips licking down to the base of his cock and back before sliding his lips around him, taking him whole. 

Sam was just moans and grunts now, his hands flew to Gabe's head, grabbing, then brushing back his hair. "Please, Gabe. Don't stop."

Gabe popped off and looked up at Sam, "I told you. Begging for me. Now I can get to business." There was no mercy. Gabe's cheeks hollowed out and sucked down on him over and over. Sam was so close, knowing it was bad form to not warn a guy, he tapped Gabe on the shoulder.

"Oh, no. Not yet." Gabe grabbed Sam by the base of the cock and stilled. "No, you aren't done yet my sweet. I haven't had my fill." 

Sam lunged up and grabbed both sides of this menace's face, licking into his mouth, tasting sweet chocolate mixed with the salt from his skin. He couldn't get enough of it, sucking on Gabe's tongue, asking for more. 

Sam rolled Gabe over and started tearing at his clothes and removing the rest of his while he was at it. Gabe had basically just unwrapped the parts of Sam he wanted access to, but left him fully clothed. Sam needed to be skin to skin with Gabe. He needed it now.

Success and a wide-eyed golden god below him, Sam licked his palm and rubbed it down Gabe's throbbing erection. 

"Sweet Jesus. Yes," Gabe groaned. "Oh Sam, don't stop that. You monster. Your hands are criminal. God yes!"

Sam smiled and licked a stripe up Gabe's throat, "You like that? Oh, baby, I'm just getting started." He knew he was talking big because he was already close to coming and looking at Gabe's buttery skin laid out before him wasn't helping matters. 

"I'm never letting you out of this bed. You are amazing!" Gabe's breathless compliments fell one after the other. Where as Sam was unable to make sense, Gabe couldn't stop talking. It was hot as hell. 

Sam swiped his hand over the head of Gabe's dick and gathered the slickness that had pooled there. Gabe tensed and unlatched his hands from the sheets, grabbing his biceps instead. Sam loosened his grasp and brought his hand around both of them, letting their cocks rub together as he guided them towards orgasm. The intensity made Sam slam his hips into Gabe, rocking with the motion, involuntarily. 

There were three more passes with his hand before Gabe came with a shout and that warmth was the final straw for Sam. He lurched forward, just missing hitting Gabe in the forehead by an inch. Once he could let go, Sam slumped to the side and gathered Gabe into his arms. 

while he said them. It screamed that he was still debauched and quite happy about being ruined. "Study was inconclusive. Think we need to run more tests." Gabe rolled over onto Sam's chest and grabbed ahold of his ribs with a possessiveness that declared Sam wasn't leaving yet.

"You'll have to give a minute for that kind of thing. Someone just wore me out," grabbing Gabe a little tighter just before he let himself close his eyes with a smile. "But, I'm game for another round." He really was.


	4. An Adorable Little Moment of Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy didn't go home that night. Big brother didn't take his absence lightly.

Dean woke up and noticed something other than the mussed sheets beside him. He noticed quiet. The kind of quiet when his brother wasn't snoring in the next room, or stomping his giant feet through the living room. He wasn't showering or humming along to whatever stupid song of the week he had caught from his students. He didn't hear pages flipping. It was a little eerie. Considering it was stupid early in the morning, there should have been some sign of Sam.

He extricated himself out of the blankets he'd twisted himself in, trying to find the right balance of coverage to pillow to cocoon ratio. He needed to sleep like anyone else, but after years in motels, his bed was like heaven's clouds. He loved sleeping in his bed. He'd rather be here than anywhere else. If he was going to be vertical this early, it would only be for Sammy. 

Dean pulled on his black boxer brief and did that sleepy stomp slide to the kitchen. No Sam. OK, not just no Sam, but no sign of him making coffee or breakfast. Step two: check his room. The door was wide open with no Sammy inside. 

A wave of tension coupled with focus drenched him, and he was on high alert in a matter of a moment. He pushed the door open to the bathroom, to find no Sammy. 

"Sammy!" No question in his voice, he looked on the living room couch to find no evidence of huge feet hanging over the edge. Sam wasn't here.

He pulled out his phone. Dad had taught him to clear the room, then make the call as you got dressed. He had jeans and a shirt on by the time Sam answered. 

"What's wrong," Sam barked with authoritative urgency, the sound of fabric being pulled over the phone's mic left a swishing sound in his ear. 

Dean inhaled and breathed out, "Sammy. You're OK. You scared the shit outta me. Where the hell are ya?"

Dean heard a voice in the background saying Sam's name. A guy's voice. Well, there we go. Sammy got laid! "I guess I missed something. Dude! You got lucky?"

"Dean, not now. I'll fill you in later. Jesus. I thought we had a level 9 or something." Sam's voice was thick with relief and the yawn he was trying to stifle. 

Dean felt his smile fade. Dad's codes for the danger they were in weren't something they'd had to use for years. He and Sam had a deal. That was all done. They kept tabs on each other and checked in regularly. Usually, they brought their dates home, just out of habit. Dean didn't like being at someone else's mercy. Ever. It was home field advantage or a quickie in the bathroom. Dean never really even thought about it, but it was all based on keeping him safe. Sammy safe. Not letting your guard down. They hadn't had to think about that for years, but it all came back so fast. 

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I. You know. You weren't here. I just woke up. Didn't realize you had a date. Dude. Talk later. "

Sam was quick to respond, "It's OK. I would have probably done the same thing."

The phone felt heavy in his hands, like a reminder of the past he'd been holding in. He didn't put it in his pocket, but laid it on the counter. Back in the day, they'd had so many of these things; he would have loved to not have a cell at all. His was new, but it wasn't like he was an international businessman. He fixed cars. He could use a landline if he needed. Really, texting to hook up was the only reason he had that thing at all. Well, and Sammy. 

Dean was dressed, so he may as well make something to eat. The pre-made pancake batter was in the fridge. Sammy did love him. Barefoot on the green linoleum in winter wasn't fun, but pancakes were awesome. He'd cope. A few eggs and a mountain of warm fluffy goodness covered in syrup. Sure. That would make up for it. Coffee. Gotta have the coffee.

After he polished off his first stack, Dean got to thinking. After that waste of space Brady and that mooching loser Ruby, Sam hadn't dated in a while. He never mentioned going out last night, and he'd stayed. This dude needed to be checked out. Sammy didn't need anymore heartache. He was a good kid-brother, and a decent guy. Dean, well he was used to the love 'em and leave 'em role, but not Sam. 

Dean decided to head in to work a little early. He filled his travel mug with more hot coffee and sauntered out the door, grabbing his leather jacket at the last second. Geeze. Fricken' cold! He knew that Bobby would be in already, and there was always work or paperwork to do. Baby started right up and off they went. At least there was no snow to deal with.

 

Sam set down his phone and let his rigid posture sag. He'd almost dumped Gabe on the floor rolling out of the bed to grab the phone. Instinct kicked in when he grabbed the shirt that he'd flung across the room while he answered. Dean didn't wake up this early in the morning. It was six. That was still night time to him. It had to be an emergency. He had to get back to Dean.

It wasn't, though. That part of their past was in the past. Dad had been dead for quite a while, and they hadn't even been to a gun range in over a year. Dean only cleaned the guns every few months, and it was usually because he was stressed out. It always calmed him. 

Sam had never loved it. The life. He never wanted that. Growing up, he didn't really know any difference until he started telling what he was doing to his friends at school. Then they'd move again. Dad being a bondsman, well, that meant you never knew where you were headed. Sam didn't even realize that was no way for kids to live until they were in high school. Well, 'till Dean graduated and took Sam with him when he moved closer to their Uncle Bobby. From that point on it was one apartment, bed times, and making friends. It took Sam a while to fit in, and stop living out of a duffle from habit, but it felt good to have some roots. That early morning phone call brought it all back into focus. 

"Hey. You don't have to tell me what that was about, but was that your brother? Oh Jeeze, Sam. You're shaking. Hey." Gabe's voice went from shy to curious to very protective in the span of a few words. There were warm hands and concerned eyes next to him before Sam figured out that the shaking was an adrenaline let down. There was no crisis, no one to fight, so now he had nothing to do with that surge. His body betrayed him. Traitor.

Sam nodded an affirmative and figured he was going to have to give a few details, or Gabe? This might be it. After it all, he might be saying, "Thanks but no thanks. I didn't sign on for this kind of baggage," but at least he'd give it a fair chance. He liked Gabe. After the way their date ended...Sam staying. He never did that. He was just too comfortable and felt too safe to volunteer to go. 

"Are you going to start talking, or am I getting out the shock blanket?" There was authority in Gabe's voice, even if he colored it with a little humor. Sam had no doubt that when Gabe set his jaw, he was going to get what he wanted.

Sam was preoccupied with the fingernail on his right index finger, but started talking anyway. "So. Look. That long story about family might need to happen now. Otherwise, this isn't going to make sense."

"I'm game. You want to get back in bed, or get all the way up?"

"No. Here's good. If I get up, I'm going to have to go for a run or something. I won't be able to sit still." He huffed out a laugh. "OK. Here goes. So, Dean and I didn't have a cookie cutter childhood. My mom died when I was a baby. Arsonist. Dean was a little guy when he carried me out of the house. Dad tried to save her, but failed. He found the guy. He'd skipped his bail. Dad started skip-tracing, and well...that is how we grew up. He taught us how to fight, how to shoot, how to take a guy down. Sometimes the bad guy found out we were with dad, and we had to hightail it outta there and set up a new base camp. Life wasn't ideal. Dean did a good job being the parents I really didn't have, so for me it was fun until I was old enough to know what was going on. Dean was helping dad with his "hunts" by the time he turned fifteen. He was an early bloomer and was six feet tall by then. As I got older, the perps got even tougher. He'd sign up to bring in the roughest cases, the most violent and resistant runners. He was good at it, but had been drunk on and off most of those years. I was up next. There was only another year for me to go before I started working cases with them, when Dean packed us up and drove us all the way to California in the middle of the night. We've been here ever since." 

Sam hadn't looked up once. The details came tumbling out of him. His chest felt lighter, but he wasn't sure if his therapy session was going to bite him in the ass. He was afraid to look at Gabe. So he just didn't. 

"I mean. Dad meant well, but he wasn't whole without mom. Dean said he lost his inner compass of what was right and wrong in terms of how to take care of us. I never knew anything different, but I knew it wasn't what I really wanted to do. It wasn't how I wanted to live."

Sam felt Gabe's hand on his leg. It was pity, and god he didn't want that right now. He just plowed through, "Dean and I. We have this thing. We take care of each other. We're not kids anymore, and we could live on our own, but there is this thing. This need to check, and make sure. He never calls me this early. I knew it could only mean trouble." He laughed. Gabe squeezed his thigh. "I mean its been years. No one remembers Winchester's Chasers anymore. With dad drinking himself to death after we left, we haven't had to cut and run. I didn't have time to think, you know? I just reacted. Usually, when I had to react, there was a reason."

He'd never told Ruby about any of that. Brady only knew some, because they'd dated in college. The change was still new. Sam was a little twitchy and didn't want to get drunk and party, so he had to tell him some of the stuff about his dad to have Brady let it go. Brady never really understood. He never got that Sam couldn't shake it off. It was the thing that eventually broke them up, in the end. 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, but his breathing was coming slower and he didn't feel amped. Gabe had been gliding his thumb along Sam's leg in a steady rhythm. It was soothing. 

"Look. You didn't sign on for any of this. No panicked phone calls, no co-dependent older brother. You didn't ask for a daddy-dear sob story. I'm sorry. I can go." Sam was shaking his head and leaning forward to get up. 

Gabe grabbed his wrist, "You just sit right back down there mister. That wasn't a pity party and I didn't give you the terms of my association with you, so how do you know what I signed on for? Hmmmm? I heard a phone ring, got rolled off my very comfortable king-sized pillow," three eye brow shrugs, "only to find you getting dressed with the focus of a CIA agent. You freaked me out a tiiiiiiny bit. I'll give you that."

Sam was trying to burn a hole in the carpet with his eyes. No luck. Not yet.

"Buuuuut, then I saw you shaking. Sam, I gotta tell you, you scared me, kiddo. I mean, I have grown somewhat fond of your company in our short time. It would only be rational for me to keep your well-being in mind. Selfish shit that I am." Soft fingers threaded in Sam's hair, pushing it back behind his ear. "You didn't need to tell me any of that, but now that you did, it doesn't change an ounce of how I feel about you."

Sam's head snapped, searching out Gabe's eyes. 

"You are still sexy, funny, good...no scratch that. Great in the sack. Who doesn't have some daddy issues? I've got some of my own. Never there. Left when I was young. Mom only lasted a few more years. There were a lot of us, Sam. We made it work. We all do. Life is about challenges and overcoming them." 

Sam was not tearing up. No. He had something in his eye. Pollen. Cat dander. 

"I look at you and I see someone who is far out of the life he was destined to live. Thanks to a loving brother and a can-do attitude. Having a hot ass and impeccable taste in men at the moment, just makes you all the more attractive to me." He meant it. Gabe meant every word. Sam had a bullshit detector that was finely honed, using it with newly minted tweens. He could smell a lie or insincerity across a room. Gabe meant it. 

"Don't say anything now. We have breakfast to eat. If I can convince you to stay, I will. I'm sure I'm feeling sick," the fake cough was followed with a megawatt smile, "and Cassie won't boot me out of the firm for being sick, now would he?"

"No. I don't suppose so. I mean, I don't have anywhere I really have to be for a while. I will have to talk to Dean soon, or he will just start texting or calling, just to be a dick-head older brother. But, I could be persuaded to spend a little longer here." Sam pulled his arm out of Gabe's grasp and wrapped it around the man who just warmed his heart a little. That amount of honesty should have blown up in his face, there should have been some kind of fall out. Instead, he just felt calm. 

Dude, peace was kinda creepy.

"Listen here, Samsquatch. I make a mean french toast. I know you might be craving something else, but that is what I'm famous for. Whatdya say we vamoose to the kitchen and drown this morning in syrup?" The wink. This time Sam did see a difference. He'd be damned if there wasn't a freaking twinkle in Gabe's eye. 

"Lead the way, chef. I am at your sugary mercy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure where I'm headed with this story. I wanted a sweet little ficlet, but then once you started reading, I wanted to give you more. Because when you like something...you want more! 
> 
> So stay with me and let me know it is worth making into a longer fic!! 
> 
> Thank again for reading!


	5. A Less Than Adorable Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Gabe loved the treasures Sam had to offer, he hated Dick. Dick was his new, guilty as hell client. He lived up to his name. If Dick thought he was going to be Gabe's permanent cock-block, then he had another thing coming. Gabe wasn't going to fall back into working 20 hours a day and letting his personal life fall to shit. Not this time. 
> 
> Sam needed to talk to Dean, but getting him to talk was the trick. Putting off emotions was a Dean Winchester specialty, but Sam was going to give it his best shot tonight.

Sam's morning was starting to look up, but Gabe was only able to play hooky for a few hours before he had to go take care of his new client's arraignment. He was tight lipped and pissed off when the call came in the middle of their breakfast extravaganza, but he stayed until he had licked the whipped cream off his plate.

That. Tongue. 

Sam was neither annoyed nor put out at getting a cab back to the restaurant. He was too busy being caught up in a cloud of volleying emotions. There were small panic surges that were followed by the memory how his skin felt hot when Gabe's hand was on his knee. 

He lost himself in the pleasure of that night until he was interrupted by flashbacks of blockading the door of the motel room when he was only ten years old, while some con kicked it until Dean, who had snuck out the bathroom window, clocked him over the head with a bat. The boys cuffed the guy with dad's extra set from under his pillow, and literally sat on the guy until John Winchester showed up an hour later. With as many head-shots as the guy suffered that night, he was lucky to still be able to string together the profanity laden insults he hurled at both the boys and John. John never looked prouder of them. Which made Sam feel both proud of himself and sick at the same time. 

He was almost home when he realized that he was going to have to hash this all out with Dean sooner or later. The repressing of all their shared baggage wasn't working as well as it used to. Who was Sam kidding? It never really worked. It only popped up in the most inopportune moments, causing him to react just as he had with Gabriel that morning: rush to act followed by an adrenaline crash. 

Dean was at work. Of course. He'd forgotten that it was a weekday. Tonight. They'd talk tonight. Well, maybe tomorrow. He had grading and planning to keep him busy. And, if his text alert pings were any indication, plenty of updates from Gabe to keep him nice and distracted. 

 

Gabe was going to kill his new client. He was tall, thin, and cocky. The fact that his name was Dick, was so appropriate that Gabe didn't hesitate to call him by his first name every time he got the chance. 

Gabe was also going to fire his assistant, who put the arraignment in his calendar for Monday, giving him the false sense of time he was planning to exploit that morning with Sam. 

Sam. God that man. He hadn't expected him to be funny, kind, real, honest, and so much fun in the sack. The way he let Gabe take charge, but then was able to turn the tables...the thoughts were not helping him get his head in the game. 

Dick.

He fucking hated this guy. He was guilty. He admitted to selling tainted meat. There was no defense, but that was what he was paying Gabriel for, wasn't he?

Mr. Novak. 

The words dripped off Dick's smug smile with as much distain as if he was saying, "sack of dog shit" with every repeated utterance. 

"Sack of dog shit, why don't you brainstorm the best solution to this sticky situation for us, huh, champ?" The smile never left his lips and his body was draped over his Italian leather sofa like he didn't have a care in the world. The fact that deaths resulted from this tainted meat meant there were several counts of manslaughter that didn't seem to concern him. It was the, "You have to break a few eggs to make a decent omelette, right, Sport?" comment that made Gabriel seriously consider kicking him out on his ass. 

There was a reputation he had to uphold for himself, Cas, and the firm. They were defense attorneys. Their clients paid regardless of the outcome, but they put up a hell of a defense. They made the District Attorneys work for their convictions, which they occasionally got. Sure, some of their clients were innocent. Some of their cases were also pro bono, but this one was a money maker. It was going to take months of prep to make it to court, and months in court. It could be a year commitment to this smug Dick. Dick Roman.

He needed interns and associates STAT! There was no fucking way he was going to go down the rabbit hole on this case and lose the only good thing that had come along in years. Sam. He told Sam at dinner that he was ready to live life a little. This case was going to be all-consuming, and he needed a plan. Just thinking about spending an hour at the courthouse with Dick was enough to make him want to puke into his briefcase. He'd talk to Cassie. Cas would know what to do. Cassie'd set him straight.

A trumpet's "Do-Do-DO-Do-DO-DO!" alerted him that he'd had a text. He was going to have to turn that thing off now that he was inside the courthouse. 

6 TEXTS? ALREADY? YOUR DAY THAT BAD?

Sam must have finally read all the rants he'd sent on the way to the courthouse. His driver made multitasking a dream. He'd never get rid of Alfie.

SAMMYKINS, U HAV NO IDEA

SOUNDS LIKE YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO PUT ON SOME OF THAT NOVAK CHARM YOU USED ON ME. JUST TONE IT DOWN. YOUR CALENDAR IS GOING TO BE A LITTLE FULL OF ME TO BE PICKING UP ANYONE NEW.

Gabe stopped walking down the hall so fast his shoes squeaked on the tile.

REALLY? GETTING A LITTLE TERRITORIAL? OH SAM. I LIKE IT.

Normally, Gabe would have "forgotten" to get a hook-ups number. He would have been dodging their calls. Or, maybe he'd be setting up a quickie for later that night, but under no circumstances would he be griping like a teenager being put on restriction to someone he'd just met. Nor would he be fighting butterflies back down into his stomach from their threat to escape out of his chest cavity upon the simple mention of being "busy" with someone after only one date. That didn't happen to Gabriel. For all he was a cocky, sarcastic, and quite obviously, little shit...he still got plenty of action. It was just that. Action. A little attraction. It was not adoration. 

I THOUGHT YOU TOLD ME THIS MORNING THAT YOU WEREN'T DONE WITH ME. YET. ;-)

Gabe bit his cheek as he flipped through his mental slideshow of all the ways he was TOTALLY not done with Sam Winchester. So many options. 

"Mr. Novak," the sickeningly sweet purr of Dick Roman's voice killed his budding boner, "Are we ready?"

"After you, Dick." Gabe gritted his teeth and sent one last text to Sam.

IN COURT. LATER!

He hopped Sam could deal with being put on hold while he dealt with the situation at hand, and made it back to the office. There were hours ahead of him. Scheduling depositions, research, interviews, meetings...and that was just today. He needed to assemble a team, get his schedule synced into his phone, and find time to see Sam. Soon. 

Fuck. He hated Dick.

 

Sam didn't hear Dean come in until the six pack of Heineken clunked on the table top right next to his "done" pile. 

"Dude! Get some last night?" Dean had grease on the side of his nose and smelled like metal and more grease. It was a soothing scent. The kind that had reminded Sam of the days they spent standing on blue milk crates handing their dad screw drivers and beers while he gave "Baby" a tune-up. Now that smell just made Sam feel safe and sound knowing that his big brother was home. He always felt that way, but tonight, he might have looked a little too excited to see Dean.

"I'd tell you no, but you already know that I did."

"What's with the million dollar smile, Sammy? I thought I'd get shit for quizzing you about it!" He'd already twisted the cap off beer #1 and slugged down a third of it. The poor beer never had a chance. "You're never THAT happy to see me," he emphasized his point with a little humor and a lot of concern. Sitting down across from Sam was a touchy-feely as Dean ever got unless Sam was actually hurt. 

The smile faded a bit. 

"See! I knew it! What did the fucker do? Did he hurt you? Kick you out after I called? What!" Dean had slammed down the beer hard enough for some errant droplets to grace more than a few pages of writing. Not that Dean cared. He was up and pacing. "Why I'll kick his stupid ass!"

"Dude! Woah. No. None of that. Sit. Calm down." Sam had his hands up then pushed his reading glasses back up his nose. The kids wrote so small or so sloppily that he had to buy them a year ago. They were more helpful than he cared to admit, but he realized he could just take them off and see Dean better, so he did. 

"Sam. What the hell man? You went from all smiles to kicked puppy so fast, my big brother mojo kicked in. What's the deal?" Dean had sat down, but he polished off the beer after that statement and went in for lucky number two. If it was a good night, there would only be one more gone, but that wasn't a safe bet once Sam opened up his mouth.

Glasses off and arms crossed over his favorite red and black flannel. "So this morning scared the shit out of me." Dean was already nodding but Sam kept going, "and I'm sorry for not telling you I was going out. I guess we just kinda missed each other before the date. I'm not even sure how that happened. I never go home with someone like that, but he is different, Dean."

Dean silently scoffed as the beer was heading back to his lips. He gave a simple, hmmm, as he drank and then looked right at Sam. "Different, huh?"

"Yea," Sam started and felt himself smile. "Different. He's a lawyer with his own money, so not like Ruby. Which makes him automatically not like Brady because he his gainfully employed and driven. I'm not going to be the one who takes care of him, Dean. He's already together." 

Dean's eyebrows were as high as his mouth was low, mimicking someone who was trying to be impressed with your news, but failing. 

"I know, but seriously. He isn't a one timer. He's got that thing."

"Ooooohhhhh. The THING! The infamous thing! Well, why didn't you say so, Sammy!" The sarcasm wasn't thinly veiled. It wasn't veiled at all. It was thick and juicy and the only way his brother knew how to communicate. Sam didn't take it personally. 

"Screw you, Dean. Look. I'll tell you anything you want to know about Gabe..." Sam left a pause on purpose.

"Really?' Dean rebounded like a puppy. Sam knew what was coming. 

"Yep."

"Even the naughty bits?" He was leaning over the table, forearms resting on the student work, shoulders gyrating to emphasize his question.

"Yep."

"What's the catch?" His brother was no idiot. Smarter than Sam, if Sam wanted to analyze it. Dean may not be into pointing it out, but he was always one step ahead of Sam and did his fair share of fact memorizing in the fields that made him happy. He was going to smell a catch as soon as he got past the initial thrill of the offer.

"We have to talk about dad."

"Damn it, Sammy. We agreed." Dean didn't yell, but the joy fell off his face and he leaned his gray t-shirt clad body back against the chair and started pealing the label off his beer with one hand.

"I know. But...this morning. That wasn't good. I had to explain why I almost rolled Gabe out of his own bed and was practically dressed by the third ring. I owed him that."

Dean wasn't looking at Sam. Seemed like they both had the same way of dealing with things they didn't want to deal with.

"Gabe was awesome. He listened to my condensed version of our childhood." Sam put his hands up again to stress the next point, "Just enough for him to realize why I was on red-alert. He held my hand, then made me breakfast. He didn't freak. He didn't try to "fix" me. He even asked me out again."

Dean nodded approvingly at this "Gabe" guy and how he reacted to the situation. It could have gone a totally different way, and it would have been Dean's fault. Sam saw the guilt on his face as clear as if it had been branded there. That was how Dean felt about everything that had ever gone wrong with Sam's life...like it was his fault. Like if he'd just been a better brother, a better son, he could have stopped all the pain. Sam knew it was bullshit, but he felt the same way about Dean. It was Sam's fault for being a burden of an underage kid brother. That's why Dean didn't have a wife and kids right now. The street went both ways, but both ways were paved with guilt, good intentions, and stuff that they were never supposed to have to deal with as kids skewing their lives as adults. 

"Dean. I need to talk. To you. I have to talk about this. I could have hurt him. Dean?"

Dean looked up, hurt in those green eyes, making them a little dull. The self-loathing was almost palpable, and Sam almost called it all off. His gut was churning.

"Let's do it, Sammy. Get it all out on the table. Fuck it. What are we waiting for? Right? But I'm not doing this shit sober. To the couch!" With his pointed finger leading the way, Dean stood up in search of the whiskey Sam hid behind the TV in the living room. Of course Dean knew where it was, but Sam knew how much was in there. They had an agreement. Beer was fine, but they didn't drink the whiskey alone. Never alone. Not like dad. 

Sam followed him and felt his pants vibrate. It was Gabe. Timing. Shit. No, he'd read it, but wouldn't respond. Wait. He'd have to respond, so Gabe wouldn't interrupt. Dean wasn't going to want to hash this out every day. He had to take advantage of the situation. If he wanted more than a few nights with Gabe, he needed to...wait. More than a few nights? Was Sam all ready to start doodling their names together? 

LONG DAY. SO SORRY DICK AT THE OFFICE.

What? OK, so Sam was responding.

WHAT? Sam stared at the phone, not noticing that Dean was on the couch with two shots poured.

NOT DICK, DICK. DICK IS THE NAME OF MY CLIENT. HE IS A HUGE DICK. NOT IN A GOOD WAY. The text came fast, and Dean cleared his voice as he was reading it. 

"Let me send this Dean," Sam typed quickly. GOTTA GO. DINNER WITH BRO. TEXT LATER OR TOMORROW? 

"I'm done. Sorry."

Sam looked at the shot. They picked them up in unison. One quick flick back of their necks and the amber liquid was burning its familiar trail down their throats. It was a comforting kind of pain, like poking at a bruise or picking at a scab. 

The vibrating in Sam's pocket made them both look. "I'm just going to check it. Its Gabe. Then I'll turn it off." Sam didn't see the way Dean stared at him, like he was worried and curious and jealous wrapped in someone who was supposed to be pissed off right now. There were flinches of those emotions flitting across his face, but Sam never saw them. Well, not this time.

I'LL WAIT TILL MORNING, THEN I START STALKING YOU AT THE COFFEE SHOP ;-)

Sam's smile didn't go unnoticed by Dean, but he wiped it off his face after he turned off the phone. 

"So," Sam started.

"So, that lover-boy?" 

"Yea," Sam nodded, trying to keep his focus on the topic that was the reason for the whiskey coming out, but he was feeling like there was some debt to be paid ahead of time. "He was busy in court today and had to go. Now I told him I'd be busy for a while. We're going to talk tomorrow." The smile came back and Dean took advantage of it.

"What's he look like? I get five questions before we start this thing, Sammy. I need some quid pro quo, just like Hannibal Lecter. Give me the details, Clarice..." and with that impersonation, they were both laughing. 

"Fine. I give one answer, then we trade. Probably a good idea to make a game of it... we're going into the stuff we promised to leave behind." Sam looked at Dean with the same marvel he always did when Dean came up with a solution to their problems, which was like...always. That didn't mean Sam was helpless, it just meant that Dean was always trying to solve the problem before it got bad, or worse, or even happened. Sam reached out to smack his hand against his brother's shoulder, a Winchester sign for deep love, on his way to lean against the couch for support.

"Gabe. Ok. Well, he's blonde. His hair is around his shoulders but groomed. I swear to god, Dean, it glows. I saw him in the coffee shop I work in sometimes and he was glowing. He wears seriously expensive black suits and white shirts. He's shorter than me..."

"Everyone is shorter than you, Sammy. Could've skipped past that one." Dean poured another shot for them both, but his was already down the hatch.

"As I was saying, he has these eyes that look like...ha ha ha, ha! That is what they reminded me of! Whiskey. And his smile has its own set of emotions. God, I sound like Charlie, don't I?" Sam could feel Dean nodding so hard, he didn't even have to look over. 

"That's good Sammy. Seems like you think he's cute. Which you should. You're banging him." Dean handed him his shot as he got ready to answer his question.

"Do you ever have flashbacks?"

Dean stilled. He gripped the back of the couch a little tighter. "Yea. All the time." He was looked down at the whiskey, pursed his lips, and then right back at Sam. "You weren't out as much, so you don't know the whole story, Sam, but it got pretty rough out there. I didn't want you to know. I was praying that I'd be able to get you out in time. It was the last gig that dad split the bond with me. That was how I got us out of there. The only reason he didn't come looking is because Uncle Bobby threatened to kill him if he did. I have to stomp it down because we don't live like that anymore, but sometimes I catch a shadow or hear a noise and I'm right back there."

Dean's knuckles were betraying the calm the rest of his body was broadcasting. Sam had another on deck, but prompted Dean to ask his, "Next one."

Dean poured two more shots and let go of the cushion that had done nothing to deserve that level of abuse, "Why him? What's the 'thing' he's got?" 

Sam knew Dean had always want to know what Sam was talking about when he said he was looking for 'that thing' that made someone special. Sam was convinced that if he'd told him, Dean would have gone out and gotten someone with 'that thing' for Sam, which wasn't really the way it was done. "Well, it is like Gabe's got a confidence, but it isn't hallow. He's successful, so he must be doing a good job as a lawyer to have built up his practice with his brother. He's funny. He tells jokes, but not in the way where someone tells a joke with a punch-line. He says things that end up funny. Its difficult to explain, but I find myself laughing constantly. He listened to me. At dinner. After dinner. This morning. He didn't want anything from me, but me. I don't know how else to explain it." 

Dean looked at Sam like he had just described an encounter with a unicorn, somewhere between disbelief and awe. He cleared his throat. Sam could tell that Dean wanted that, too. He almost told him he could find someone if he really wanted when he heard Dean bark out, "Shoot."

Sam shook his head. This wasn't about Dean's love life, or sex life, or only sex no love-life. "One more shot," which he drank down a little too easily and continued with what he really wanted to know, "How do you deal with them? The flashbacks? I go into "business mode" then just start shaking when nothing is there. Not the way to impress some you just met. I really like him, too." Sam knew he was using the puppy-dog eyes on Dean. It was involuntary. He wanted Gabe. He wanted him beyond tomorrow, maybe beyond that. He was asking his brother for help.

"I don't know, Sammy. I drink." Dean smiled and put his lips back around his beer that became bitter in his mouth. Sam was asking for his help. This was his damned job. Suck it up, Winchester and do your damned job. "I make sure I'm safe, you're safe, Bobby is safe. If you get a call from me that I didn't warn you about, I'm checking. Dad taught me to check your people before you do your job. If no one is coming and I've checked on everyone, I breathe and think of naked women until I don't feel like bashing someone's head in." He was sweating and a little shaky, so he took an extra shot and didn't look up at Sam's judgmental eyes, mostly because he didn't want to see the permission to drink after that little declaration. He wanted to believe that Sam was pissed off at his drinking. "It works most the time. If it doesn't, I find something to break. I mean, working at the shop makes that pretty easy. You can't hit the kids or break a laptop, so I don't recommend it."

Sam didn't waste any time, "What else do you want to know?" Hopefully offering anything to change the way this conversation was heading. There was too much pain in Dean's eyes, and Sam wasn't dealing with half of that baggage. He felt unfairly well-adjusted and needed to apologize for that, make up for it.

"Nah, Sammy. I'm tired. I know! I know I promised, but I can't do anymore tonight," the slur was already evident and maybe a little forced, but Sam didn't put up a fight.

He let Dean take his shot and head to bed. He hadn't had dinner and Sam felt like shit about it, but something in his heart was a little lighter. One of the eighty-pound bricks on his chest had been replaced with a scar. It still hurt, but was a hell of a lot lighter. He'd make breakfast in the morning. Bacon, eggs, strong coffee and silence. There would be zero talking in the morning, and a quick text to Bobby warning him about tomorrow. He'd also ask him to keep an eye out for Dean over the next week. If he was going to come to work hungover more than tomorrow, he'd have to do something. 

But at the moment, he would send one more text, eat a peanut butter and banana sandwich and go to bed. 

FAMILY STUFF. MORNING. PROMISE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They won't all be this heavy... promise of more smutty goodness to come, but I have to go where the story takes me. The more I feel this one out, the more it feels like a longer fic, so strap in folks! Updates will be at least weekly!


	6. Adorably Busy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabe need to find a way to see each other, but in the meantime...

Gabe wasn't pissed off to get the text from Sam that he couldn't talk. He was concerned. He had put Sam off earlier in the day, and he wanted to make sure that Sam knew it was only for work. When Sam couldn't talk because of family stuff, an ounce of him wondered if he was getting a taste of his own medicine. Then he snapped out of it and remembered that Kali was in India, not on the other end of the message. Sam didn't strike him as vindictive. Controlling. Power hungry. Evil. 

Nope. Gabe believed exactly what was written there. Busy. Gabe was also busy. He was eating Chinese, going over the files that the DA had shared with him. Everything they had needed to be shared. It was how the evidence or lack thereof, was used in court. That was what mattered. The DA could file the charges, have a witness list, and mountains of information at their fingertips, but he wouldn't know how the cookie was going to crumble until the opening statements began. Not really.

Gabe knew that there would be painting being done in the courtroom. There would be a painting of Dick, being...well...a dick. Not much he could do about that unless he saved orphans in his free time...and Gabe could prove the orphans were alive and well, not the mystery meat that had killed 26 people, so far. 

The portraits of all 26 dead people would be there. Not faceless, nameless victims, but the very person, down to their job, charitable contributions, and shoe size. Anything the DA could do to make those people more human, their deaths more tragic, they'd do. He knew that because that is what he would do. 

The company would be painted as a money-grubbing entity. The bookkeepers as greedy profit-margin-mongers. The list went on and on.

Gabe's job was to mitigate that. All of it, with as much truth as he could find to make this situation look less obviously negligent. If there was a shred of doubt that Dick hadn't known the meat was bad before it went out, or at least until folks started getting sick. Maybe it was all down to timing. Dick knew the meat was bad now...but when did he really know? Could anyone have been saved, or was this a tragic accident? 

Gabe was seriously beginning to question his job and if he was cut out to defend people, or if he was just having a crisis of conscious because Dick was living up to his name at the exact same time that Sam was making him wonder if he shouldn't just give it all up and go to work at that very coffee shop where they met? He had savings. He liked coffee. He even liked to bake. They could add fresh baked muffins to the menu. 

The fact that Gabe was even considering this meant only one thing: He was gone over Sam. 

Even at the height of Kali's grip on his heart and his balls, he never thought about leaving the practice. Not once. 

"Do-Do-DO-Do-Do-DO DO!" The trumpeting heralded that Sam was going to bed, and he'd have to wait until morning to find out if he was OK. After this morning, the truth bomb that Sam had to let go after the rude awakening, he was sure they were having a chat about either boundaries or the past. Gabe knew a little bit about both.

He and Cassie weren't keen on talking about the past and had very few boundaries. That had backfired on both of them, repeatedly. Most recently, when Cassie found out that one of their brothers, Luc, was looking for a defense attorney for a string of gang-related murders he was reported to have ordered. The name Novak came up. The boys had to call in a favor with another firm to represent Luc, claiming that they couldn't represent their brother. If they got him off, it would look like they tried something. In all honesty, they just didn't want to be involved or tied to him in anyway. Neither of them visited. Luc wasn't exactly the lovable older brother type. He was a "run or he'll burn you with a cigarette" type. Like he told Sam, they all had baggage.

IF YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND. I'M HERE. JUST WORKING THE NIGHT AWAY. TEXT ANYTIME. 

Gabe would leave that and head back to his Chinese. Chow Mein noodles were one of the 32 perfect things in this world. They made most things better. They had their work cut out for them tonight.

BIG OFFER THERE FOR SOMEONE YOU BARELY KNOW

He responded! Gabe set down the box and the chopsticks, but only after he had taken that last bit. Lucky Dragon, indeed! They may need a Christmas card this year!

OH SAM! YOU WOUND ME! BUT I'M LETTING THAT SLIDE. 

Gabe sent that and realized he needed to prompt the man, LET ME HAVE IT. WHAT CAN I DO?

And he waited.

Gabe sent that text and waited. He stared at the screen long enough to wonder if he blew it and Sam went to bed after all.

DEAN AND I TALKED TONIGHT. ANCIENT FAMILY HISTORY. IT GOT A LITTLE DEEP. 

R U OK? 

Gabe was playing it cool, but he just wanted to get in his car, pick him up, and take him home to kiss all his worries away. Because he is a big, giant, stupid, teenage girl, who has gone ga-ga over this guy in twenty-seven minutes. He took his loosened tie off and threw it behind him. The air was thicker than it was a second ago.

NO. NOT REALLY. OUR CHILDHOOD. WELL, IT WASN'T. I JUST FOUND OUT DEAN HAD IT WAY WORSE THAN I KNEW. 

BIG BROTHERS USUALLY DO. HE DID A GOOD JOB HIDING IT FROM YOU.

THAT'S WHAT BOTHERS ME. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN. I THOUGHT I HAD IT SO HARD, AND NO...YOU DON'T NEED TO HEAR THIS TONIGHT. YOU'RE STILL AT WORK. I'LL LET YOU GET YOUR WORK DONE.

Gabe was out of his seat before he finished reading the text. Consider work done. He opened a group in his email, no his laptop, explaining to his "team" that they would need to wrap up what he had left on his desk, write up a brief for him to be ready by 10am, and if anyone ate his leftovers, they'd live to regret it. They would get the message and in the next hour, they'd be back. He remembered those nights very well as he did his time in that big firm. You did the time and crawled up the ladder. If you didn't...you didn't.

Gabe dialed Sam's number this time, not wanting to get a thumb cramp on his way down to the lobby. 

"Gabe?" Sam's voice was quiet, and a little more relaxed than he remembered.

"I'm on my way to you right now. Do you want to meet somewhere or do you want to give me directions to your house?" There was business in his tone. Sam could say no, but Gabe knew he didn't want to. Gabriel was good at reading people. Sam had wanted to let him off easy and wallow in self pity. It was a good choice, one that Gabe had made regularly when friends or Cas had put there hand out to help him. He was wrong to wallow. It sucked. Talking would have been better. 

Sam was quiet, but Gabe could hear him thinking. "Here? Could you come here?" There was a pause as Gabe awaited directions or an address, "'cause I"m a little drunk."

"Oh, if you weren't emotionally compromised, I'd have something very inappropriate to say to that. Tonight, I have one thing to say, 'address.' Well, OK two things. 'Do you want cookies or ice cream?' Forget it. I'm bringing both. I'm an emotional eater."

"You aren't like the others, are you?" Sam was more than the little tipsy he was at dinner. He was drunk. He was drunk enough to draw out his words and put enough flirt behind them to make Gabriel shiver. 

"Well, Sammy, you sexy hunk of man, I am unique. I have a lot of talents you haven't gotten to properly be introduced to. Sex and cooking are just the tip of the iceberg. Even what you've gotten so far are just the tips of those skills as well." 

Gabe had just reached the lobby and as usual, Alfie was waiting. The man was a saint. He could share the Novak burden with another driver, but Alfie came from a long line of respectable servants from London. His father and grandfather were chauffeurs, and then the list gets longer with the man servants and even a few butlers thrown into his family tree. This was why Gabe paid him enough to consider claiming him as a dependent on his taxes. Like the son he never had. 

"I bet you want to show me some of those skills tonight, dontcha?" Sam was purring into the phone. 

"Oh, you are making it hard...I mean difficult to stay focused. Sam. Address."

"632 Sutter Street. The second left on Amos after you already turned left on Malta. Do you know where that is?"

"I do sir. I can get you there in less than twenty." Speaker phone. Gabe loved it.

"Now Sam, I'm going to be a tad longer because I'm picking up comfort foods. Speak now, or be stuck with whatever I get. Did you eat?"

"Sandwich. I don't care, just bring you."

"You're going to be asleep when I get there, aren't you?"

"Nope."

Gabe smiled, "How can I count on you, Sam? You sound like too many blankets and not enough hot cocoa left in the mug. That is a recipe for sleepy-town, in case you weren't familiar." The car was already moving to the closest 24 hour supermarket. Alfie knew what to get when they arrived. Chocolate chip cookie dough, S. Pellegrino water, and those white cookies with the thick white frosting. He added a straight up Hershey bar and some Cheetos to his standing order, just to cover the bases. If something in that bag didn't cheer Sam up, he'd just have to get creative.

"Oh, me? I'm going to go take a shower right now. Get all soapy and clean and warm. Then when you get here, we're going to go lay down in my bed and see what comes up." Tempted. Gabe was so temped to skip all the frills and go straight for the sexual healing that Sam was literally ASKING him for. Telling him what he wanted, but Gabe was wise to the situation.

"Yep. Get all clean, bundled up, so you don't get cold while you wait for me. I want you in sweats and dry hair. Cuddle up on the coach, so you will hear me knock. I'll be there in no time. Hurry, up." 

"Yes, SIR." Sam clicked off the phone after that sultry promise to do exactly what Gabe had told him to do. He'd called him sir. Gabe was hard and conflicted. As Alfie left the car running outside a Winco, Gabe had a small inner war with himself. 

No. You are not to have sex with this man. 

What if he asks real nicely?

No. You need to talk to him. We want him around. Baggage and all. 

What if he is shirtless? 

No. We aren't powerless against his naked chest, no matter what we think or how good he tastes or how amazing his abs are.

What if he takes his shirt off mid-sentence while we are doing all the helpful stuff and climbs on your lap and kisses your neck?

I'm only human, I mean no!!! You pull it together Novak! The man is in emotional turmoil, and it is up to you to help him, not to help him out of his pants!

He had almost gotten himself convinced that he could resist a horny Sam Winchester, on the prowl when Alfie opened the door carrying all the requests. 

"Alfie, my boy, you are too good for me!"

"Sir, if I didn't take care of you, who would?"

"This is why I pay you the big bucks. Onward Alfie, I have a fair maiden to rescue!"

 

Sam was clean, warm, and nursing another beer when Gabe knocked on the door. He'd wondered, as he sobered up a little in the shower, if he was insane. He checked on Dean, who'd left his door wide open when he crashed. The dude was out. Talking emotions and drinking like he hadn't in a long time had caught up with him. Sam wrote him a note, left it taped to his phone, and closed the door. (Don't worry. I may have company.)

His buzz was coming back, and Sam had plans to get the revelations from tonight off his mind. It included the man at the door, his bed, and no clothes. He wanted Gabe at least twice before they passed out. If he could still count, tomorrow was Friday. He'd set an alarm for 6 am already, in case Gabriel stayed the night. If he didn't, he'd used that alarm to make Dean's breakfast. He hoped Gabe would stay.

When Sam opened the door, he forgot his plans. There was Gabe, smiling, holding a big bag from a grocery store, filled with snacks. Cheetos were on the top. How did he know? Gabe was also holding flowers (that Alfie decided to add to the order all on his own, the guy was getting a raise) and Sam went from a sex-crazed panther stalking his prey to a bundle of fluffy marshmallows held together with syrup. 

"Flowers? Seriously?" But there was zero sarcasm in his voice. No one in the history of his life had ever gotten him flowers. It never crossed his mind to want them, but in that moment, it was as if his whole life, he'd been longing for them, and had finally gotten the one thing he'd always wanted. He teared up just a little bit and cradled them out of Gabe's hand, jerking his head for him to follow. 

Did they even own a vase? Nothing of mom's was left from the fire. No heirlooms, no woman's touches outside the stray hair tie or panties Sam found strewn around the house on occasion after one of Dean's "guests" had stayed over. 

Sam got out the spaghetti pot, cut the bottoms off the flowers to make them shorter, and put the pot filled up with water and flowers on the stove. It was the best place for them, and Sam wanted to see them the moment he got up. His room was directly across from the stove. He stood there looking right at them, when he felt arms circle his waist.

"I can't take all the credit for that look; I'm afraid Karma will strike me down for lying. My driver picked them out when he got the goods." Gabe punctuated his apology with a kiss to the very center of Sam's large and well defined back. One kiss. Just one, Novak!

"Gabe. Thank you, anyway. No one..." Sam stopped and turned around in Gabe's arms. He looked into the confused face of Gabriel Novak and explained, "No one has even treated me this well. Cheetos? That is my snack. I didn't tell you. How'd you know?"

"That, I can take credit for! You didn't say yes to any of my sweets, but I knew you'd like something you couldn't just eat 1 of...so I went with a classic!" Gabe beamed, feeling like even though the flowers weren't his idea, nailing the snack was still a win! Plus, the way Sam had looked at him when he saw the flowers about broke his heart. When Sam was staring at that pathetic pot filled with cheap grocery store daisies, Gabe snapped a photo. If this all went south with Sam, he wanted this moment to keep forever.

"Wanna talk, Sam? Tell me what you didn't want to text me. You've got me all to yourself!" He opened his arms, wide and was betrayed by a big yawn. "I'm totally awake. Just been a long day. I will NOT fall asleep while you talk. You are riveting."

Sam didn't fall for it. And oddly, he didn't feel sad, or guilty, or bad, he just felt tired. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat. I have a king-sized bed if you wouldn't mind amending your offer..." Sam saw Gabe straighten up, looking like he was ready to argue the point about not sexing his way out of a conversation, "not for sex. Just for sleep. How about I cuddle you up into these warm arms of mine, after you get out of that ridiculously expensive suit, and I whisper my troubles in your ear as we fall asleep. You can meet my brother in the morning over bacon and coffee. Whatdya say?" Sam unleashed the puppy-dog eyes, held out his arms, added the tilted head, the smirk, and he may have flexed his muscles on purpose. Just once. 

"You drive a hard bargin. We put the ice cream in the fridge and let me text my driver, and you are on."

"Driver? That's who I have to thank for the flowers? Tell him that he nailed it." 

"Done and done. Now let's get your tall, dark, and handsome ass into bed for some shut-eye and sleepover confessions." Gabe offered his hand, and Sam took it. They walked into Sam's room, pushing the door closed behind them.


	7. Adorably Delicious

The scent was what he knew heaven would smell like. His head was off the pillow, inhaling with every centimeter of surface area his lungs would allow. Bacon, coffee, pancakes, and syrup. Sam was the best brother in the whole world. 

Dean relented to open his eyes and saw the glass of water and aspirin. There was also a note stuck to the outside of his phone. (Don't worry. I may have company.) Hmmmmm. Did Sexy Mr. Lawyer make house calls? Dean was going to give him an unreasonable amount of shit over this.

He swallowed the pills and laid his face back down on the pillow. He wimped out last night. Sam wanted answers. Real answers. Dean tried. He really did. There was only so much memory lane shuffling he was up to. Sammy didn't know the half of it, and that was the way Dean liked it. He worked his ass off to keep it that way, and as much as he wanted to make whatever Sammy wanted to happen, happen, he just couldn't go all the way on this one.

Too much. Too deep. Too shitty.

Dean rolled over and did the deep kind of full body stretches that he'd seen cats enjoy. He was reminded why they do them. They felt amazing.

Time to face the music. He curled his body up to the seated position and stretched his arms in the air just one more time. 

To be fair to this therapy self-help crap, he felt different. He didn't feel as jumpy as he normally did. Maybe it was the note? Maybe it was the food? Both. He guessed it was both. The booze helped him relax and sleep, so that might be it. Screw it. He was too hungry to think about it anymore. He threw open his bedroom door and headed out to get his grub on.

"Sammy! You are the best..." the words caught in Dean's throat as he looked at this little blonde guy in a wife-beater tank top and red boxers holding a frying pan in his kitchen. There was a silver pot of flowers on the counter next to stacks of pancakes, bacon, and soon to be dished up- scrambled eggs. 

"You must be Dean! I made a ton of food, so come dig in! Glad to see that Sam wasn't the only one who hit the genetic lottery!" Gabe whistled and continued, "How about we both get pants on and meet back here to chow down? I'll get Sam. Deal?"

Dean nodded and turned on his heel to put on pants, a t-shirt, a flannel, and socks. He felt dirty and more than a little cheap after that midget stared at the naked parts of his body. He shivered. Was that THE guy? What did Sam see in him?

He was back out and met Gabriel in the kitchen, again.This time was slightly less uncomfortable with them both covered. Now, Gabriel was wearing a pair of Sam's gym shorts and one of his flannels. He looked like a kid in dad's clothes playing dress-up...except they were Sam's clothes and his sex toy was wearing them. Gross. He had to shake his head to etch-a-sketch erase the images immediately. Those were not allowed. Nope. Just repress and eat.

"So Dean, Sammy tells me that you are the best big brother in the whole world...which I know couldn't be true, because I am...but we can let him bask in that fantasy, can't we?" This guy talked fast, and had a lot to say. How did Sam even get a word in edgewise? "But I'm sure you'll only argue the point, so I'll let you take the title. Syrup?"

"Yea," Dean managed to squeeze in before Gabriel was talking again.

"I'm more a syrup and whipped cream kind of guy, but I noticed you didn't have any, so I'm probably sprinkle some powdered sugar on top of the syrup puddle." 

Dean's mouth was open while he watched Gabriel continue talking and eating. The combination was amazing. It wasn't even gross because the stream of words totally covered any of the food he might be seeing, given the fact that Gabriel was chew-talking with his mouth open.

"and so I came right over and made sure Sam got a decent night's sleep, but because I never sleep, and I got like six hours of totally uninterrupted sleep, I am WIDE awake, man! I mean, seriously! These are goo-oo-ood!!! Ah, Sammy! You are awake! Come and get some!"

 

Dean turned around to see Sam gaping at the scene before him. His brother. Gabe. Well, that wasn't quite how he wanted it to play out, but there wasn't anything for it at this point. Damage done.

He looked at his brother on the walk into the kitchen that felt much longer than the fifteen steps it normally took him, "So, Dean. You met Gabe?"

"Um. Ya. Sorta. He made breakfast. I like him." Dean had a piece of bacon wrapped in a pancake in his hand with eggs being chomped up in his mouth. He smiled around the food and took a big bite.

"See, Sam! You had nothing to worry about!" Gabe exclaimed with a wink! "He loves me! I'm sure of it! Now let's get you tucked in at the table and feed you, so you don't waste away!"

Sam sat. He looked. He wanted to freak out. Felt he should. But he could only smile. It was so fucking domestic. Dean eating and nodding, in his protect his food hunch, Gabe hopping around the kitchen on what must be his third or fourth cup of coffee, and he was sitting in the middle of it, wondering how it all had happened. He was totally giddy.

"What's so funny, Chuckles?" Dean asked through the sip of coffee he was trying to use as a food softener, so he could get more food in his mouth.

Sam shook his head, "This. You. Him. Me. This is like the dreams I used to have of a family breakfast that didn't involve Denny's or cereal. Surreal."

"Well, dating me does have its perks. Not all of them are in the bedroom!" Gabe leaned in for a peck as he heard the trumpets call him from the bedroom. "That's for me! Gotta get my clothes. Alfie will have a change for me. Always does!"

Gabe was in the bedroom and back out the door before the boys had time to do more than shrug their shoulders at one another. 

Gabriel looked like he was hovering across the floor with the dry cleaner's page flying behind him like a flag waving in the wind. 

Dean swallowed with visible difficulty and used his tongue to clean his mouth out with a loud smacking noise, "So that's lover boy?" The cheshire cat grin was as big an indication as Sam was going to get that the teasing had only begun.

"Oh come off it, Dean. He made you a mountain of breakfast. Don't think for one minute that this is for me. Gabe knows that I'd rather have something lighter, but he knows you share his love of all things food-related. And you loved it. Admit it. He's growing on you already."

Dammit, but Sammy was right. He already liked the guy. HOLY SHIT!

Gabe walked out into the kitchen. He looked like the guy who could hire a mafia hit-man. He looked like a mafia hit-man. He looked at least a foot taller with he hair combed and the tie on. The walked like he owned the apartment, like he owned the building...the block! Dude. Who was this guy?

"Hey there, Mr. Novak... you look ready to take Dick on head first!" Sam purred, taking Gabe into his arms, only to hear Dean choking.

"Shit! Choking! Gross! Warn a guy!" Dean was standing and doubled over, coughing. 

"No! No, nonononono! His client's first name is Dick! And well, he is a dick. Long story. Gross, Dean!" Sam felt thirty-seven shades of red and had his hands over his face wishing he had just waved goodbye to Gabe as he walked out of the apartment.

 

Gabe preened from the attention of his newly claimed boyfriend, yes you heard that right, "boyfriend" was the title decided upon last night. Sam shared a few little whispers of regret and guilt, but their evening had been more about booking time with each other over the next few weeks. Gabe had agreed to take one week night and one weekend day to hang out with Sam. They were going to give their joint enthusiasm for each other the old college try. Sam nixed the staff meeting nights and Gabe said no to the weekly partners' meeting night. That left them with Tuesdays and Sundays. Between Tuesday and Sunday they were both busy as fools, but decided they'd just text more unless Gabe was blessed with any free time at all. 

Seeing the way Dean's jaw hit the bricks when Gabe walked back out the door sealed his place in Dean's circle of respect. The food warmed him up and the attitude cinched it. A few nights of beer and burgers, and Dean would offer to pay for the wedding. That's right. He said that, too! He could see him and Sam as an end game. He was even going to wish on every stray eye lash, every new star, and every wishbone he spotted from here until he had a ring on that man. 

"Aw Dean. You OK there, my man? Can't have you dying off 'till you've tried my famous bacon cheeseburger. And I do mean 'famous!'" Gabe included the air-quotes to emphasize the point. 

"But, you!" He jabbed Sam in the chest, "I will see later." Gabe kissed him with the need to make Sam remember the kiss. They would have to go two whole days without seeing each other, and THIS Sunday was probably too soon. There was too much to do to get ready for this case, and it was too soon to think he'd have everyone of his minions doing what he wanted.

"Ya you will," Sam said with his eyes closed when Gabe finally let him come up for air.

He opened his eyes to hear the door close.

"Dude. Gross."

Sam didn't care. He was floating on Cloud Nine or whatever cloud it was where you felt like you were on the edge of something great. Dean's prissy big-brother sensibilities were going to have to get used to it. He was going to see a lot more of Gabe.


	8. Waiting Is Not Adorable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabe wait for date night, while Dean and Bobby have a chat.

Sam had no trouble finding something to keep his mind off Gabriel that weekend. There was plenty to do. Between grading/planning and his nightly chats with his brother where they avoided their family history like the plague, Sam had enough on his plate to keep him from mooning over his new boyfriend. Most of the time.

Gabriel was relentless with texts. On slow day, he averaged one text every hour. Sometimes there were only a :-) or a :-P faces that came through. Other times the emoticons were seriously X-rated. He ranted, raved, flirted, and sexted. Sam fielded as many as he could, but kept reminding Gabe that coming Monday, he'd have to leave his phone off during class time. He'd only be checking in at lunch and maybe sneak a peek during his prep if he could find the time. 

This did not deter Gabe. Not one bit. The more Sam reminded him that he was going to have to be part of the workforce again, the more texts came. Sam had to admit that it didn't bother him. He hadn't had someone, other than his brother's, undivided attention in a long time. His constant grinning was beginning to worry Dean. Sam could tell. Tuesday night was coming up soon, and the boys needed a date night plan. The wheels were turning, as Gabe had taken over the planning of the night. Sam had no intel to work off of, no way to predict how the night would go. End? Yes. He was fairly certain he'd end up the sack, but go? It could go in one of a thousand directions. 

He had something to look forward to in his own life. It was funny how different that made...everything.

 

Dean couldn't talk to Sam about their dad anymore than he could leave that frayed string alone in his own mind. It was something that he was constantly thinking about: How could he keep Sam from finding out? Why did it matter now? Who was going to get hurt? When was he going to stop thinking about all this fucking baggage and get back to his own damned life?

"Get yer head outta yer ass, ya idjit!" 

"Sorry Bobby."

"Ya almost dropped that on my damned head!" There was a blur of flannel as Bobby's hand smacked Dean upside his head. 

Dean realized that he was going to have to talk to someone; he just wasn't going to talk to Sam.

"Bobby, I got a problem," Dean started while he held the hood on the Mustang with a sturdier arm than he had a moment ago. "Sam wants to talk."

Bobby stood up and wiped his grease covered hand across his forehead, tilting his trucker hat up a bit in the process. "That's never a good sign."

Dean closed his eyes and gestured with his free hand, "That's Sam. He wants to yap about stuff we promised to never bring up."

"Dija start already, or is he clambering for ya to start? I'm assumin' you're talking about your daddy and his sorry attempt at rasin' the two of ya," Bobby gave his sruffy old beard a good scratch, then grabbed a handkerchief out of his back pocket and started wiping his hands. "Ima right?"

"Well, 'course ya' are. I mean, its my fault. He wasn't home a few days ago and I kinda freaked out and called his phone."

"Reasonable response, kiddo."

Dean huffed, "Ya, except he was with someone and he freaked out like we were on red alert of something. Started having flashbacks of the low times when we had to fight off cons that found their way to us while dad was hunting them. Shit like that. So I ignited that stick of dynamite, and now I have to help him put it out."

Bobby looked at him like he had claimed to discover the wheel, "You're an idjit, you know that? You didn't cause this, and neither a' you had enough sense to go get some therapy to deal with it. YOU were a kid too, Dean. Give yer self a break. If Sam wants to talk, it'll do ya both some good. Now hand me that wrench. Gotta get the lid off this manifold."

Dean passed the tool to Bobby with what gratitude he could imply in the simple action of handing him a wrench. It didn't solve the issue, but it did give Dean permission beat himself up a little less than usual. 

Maybe he'd give talking a try. Well, if there was enough Whiskey.

 

Gabe could NOT wait for that night to start. He had been working constantly, stopping every once in a while to text Sam, making sure he was still on the other end of the phone. Gabe realized he was smitten, and he accepted it. The key was to make sure Sammy was smitten, too. He felt fairly sure that he was on the right track, but it had been DAYS since he'd even heard Sam's voice. All texts were on the way to another meeting or when he was getting up for a snack, or heading to the can. Any time he could get five seconds alone, he'd send a little something Sam's way.

The fun part were his responses. Gabe would always get one right away, like Sam was just waiting for them. Gabe knew that wasn't true, but he enjoyed pretending. 

Then Monday hit. No responses until lunch. He had to wait until 6:30 PM for the punchline from a dirty joke he sent at 3, which was just too long to wait for that kind of thing. That was yesterday. Today he had only gotten two responses. It was harder than he thought.

He knew he wasn't giving this case every ounce of his attention, but it was getting all he had right now. 

Cas noticed.

"Brother. Why are you checking your phone so much? You haven't made one inappropriate sexual reference today. I am concerned. Are you ill? Awaiting results of medical testing?"

Gabe gafawed and slapped his leg, "No Cassie. No medical results. I've got a boyfriend."

Cas smiled and grabbed Gabriel's shoulder, "I am happy for you."

"Thanks, Cassie."

"However, your distraction could cost us this case. I know you have 'lackies' on it, for lack of a better term, but it is our reputation the line."

"You know this guy is a real bastard, Cas. Why did we take him on again?"

Cas exhaled and tilted his head, narrowed his eyes, and replied, "Money."

"Yea. Forgot that for a minute," Gabriel wasn't smiling. He was genuinely uncomfortable still, which caused Cas to feel the need to explain the situation in great detail.

"You were fine with our choice to make our practice one which defends indiscriminately, Gabriel. In order to do that, we need high paying clients, so that we might defend our clients we give scholarships to. It was part of the deal. Knowing that we helped many innocents go free, outweighs the few of our clients the DA cannot convict due to their own negligence or lack of evidence." 

Gabe looked at his brother and remembered why he and Cas were the only two family members who spoke anymore. 

"Thanks, Cassie. Just the pep talk I needed. You're right. I will put in more effort, but not until tomorrow at 9AM. I have a date with a big hunk of man, and NOTHING is going to get in the way of that!"

Trumpet rang out, rescuing Gabe from this tete-a-tete with his brother, "Sammikins, speak of the devil. Just informing my brother that you are more important than all legal emergencies until tomorrow morning. You still game for tonight?"

"Are you going to tell me where we're going, now?"

"Nope."

Sam cleared his throat, "OK. Look. I don't know what to wear and its stressing me out. Its a school night, so I can't actually be up too late or the kids will eat me alive in the morning. A clue, Gabe. One clue."

Gabe may have sniggered with a little glee that Sam was so worked up, "Oh Samster, wear whatever you want. If you really need a hint, no shorts. Other than that, you will feel fine. Alfie will be there at 6 to pick you up. He'll swing by here to grab me on the way. I'll see you then, Winchester!"

 

Sam hung up with Gabe feeling no better about the date dress code. It was just after 4 and he needed a plan of attack or he was going to vibrate out of his skin. Shower and shave it was. He had worked frantically all through prep and lunch to get totally planned for Wednesday, knowing that the evening could go many different directions, he wanted to know that as long as he got to school, it would be fine. 

What he didn't want to say aloud was that he was hoping Gabe was just going to take him home and take him to bed. The first time had been sooner than he thought it would be. He hadn't planned on jumping right into bed with him; a stranger, but he regretted nothing. He just wanted more of it. The cuddling was great (scratched a totally different itch) but he was primed. 

Sam walked into the bathroom with a towel and a clean pair of boxer briefs. Dean wasn't due home until after Sam would be gone, but he was used to locking the door. The white noise caused by the hard shower stream was soothing to his nerves, and he melted into it, letting the water wash off the day. He had both hands, bracing himself against the tile wall, letting the rivulets cascade down his back, when the thought of Gabe's body infiltrated his thoughts. Really, it hadn't left his thoughts, but Sam was good at pushing it away. 

The soft curve of his neck, the solid shoulders, his soft stomach (so much candy this guy ate,) and that perfectly rounded ass. He wanted cover that stomach with kisses and lick up the side of that neck while grabbing a handful, and then... Sam wasn't going to make it to the date if he kept this up. He switched the water to cold and rinsed the soap off his body. He was dried off and dressed by 4:30 and hadn't solved the issue of keeping himself busy. 

A book. Sure. He'd read. Sam picked out a dark pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and his second favorite flannel (blue and white with some yellow hiding in there) in case it was chilly where they ended up. His jacket was still on the hook when he dug into Moby Dick. Oddly, he'd never finished the book that had sat on his shelf for years. Three pages in, he remembered why: This book was wordy as fuck! Get to the point Melville!

Before Herman could get anywhere close to a point, which Sam wondered if he ever would, there was a knock at the door. 

"Hello Mr. Winchester, I'm Alfie. I'll be driving you tonight." Alfie had his black hat under his arm, and gestured for Sam to come outside and get into the car. "We'll pick up Mr. Novak and be off to our destination."

"You going to tell me where that is?" Sam smiled and gave the kid a wink to get the point across that it was OK to tell him now that they were getting started, but the shake of Alfie's head let the wind out of Sam's sails.

"I'm terribly sorry Mr. Winchester, sir, but I was given strict orders to keep this one quiet. Mr. Novak went out of his way to make this event happen, and he wouldn't want me to let his novel idea be a waste." 

Sam was excited. Event? Novel idea? Nervous and excited.

"OK, before I get in the car, just tell me one thing. Do I need to change, or am I dressed appropriately?"

Alfie raked over this body with an air of formality, rather than of want or desire, "Yes sir. Quite appropriately. May I get your door?"

Sam stepped into the car, and got comfortable. He was used to his car, and there wasn't anything that was going to prepare him for this type of treatment. For their first date, Gabe had driven himself, and gotten lost. The reason made a lot more sense if he was used to being driven around all the time. Where in the hell could they be going?

Gabe was waiting in front of a very impressive brick and glass building. There were four stories, and plenty of parking. Sam wasn't sure if they were the only business in the building, but he couldn't think to ask. Gabe was waiting in his traditional black suit, and Sam's jeans were feeling tight. He was starting to sweat thinking about how he was going to manage getting to their date without defiling him in the back seat. It would be a test of his will. He might lose.

"Sammy, you look ravishing," Gabe got out of his mouth before descending on Sam. He grabbed Sam by the cheeks and pulled him in for a very wet and very passionate kiss. The fact that Gabe ended up sitting on Sam's lap was more of an after thought in Sam's mind. He was lost in Gabe's tongue and couldn't think, let alone breathe of make words. "I've missed you."

"Gabe. Alfie," Sam managed to mumble out, but Gabe just went in for another attack. 

"He's fine. Got his eyes on the road." They simply lost track of space and time. They could have driven onto a freighter bound for Timbuktu and they wouldn't have noticed the change of scenery, so it came as a surprise when Alfie cleared his throat and spoke up. 

"Sir, we've arrived." Alfie announced. They were there? Who cared where they were, just get out of the car dude!

"Oh. Right. Come on Sammikins. I've got a surprise for you!"


	9. The Date With a Side of Adorable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why were they outside a bookstore? Did Gabe have research to do? Or was there something else up his sleeve?

They were in front of a Books N'More. It was a giant chain store that sold books, magazines, videos, and anything else paper or information related you could think in your pretty little head. Sam was confused. Did Gabe need to pick up a new law book? Or comic book, for that matter?

"Oh Sam, I hope this is as good as it was in my head. OK, so here's the deal. We're going in for something, and then we have another stop. Ready?" Gabe had climbed off Sam's lap and had gathered his composure to the point that he seemed coherent. Sam was not that far along. He had a rather impressive erection straining against his pants, and the lack of blood flow made him feel a little stupid at the moment, but it sounded like Gabe wanted him to go into the book store for something.

"Um. I'm not sure I'm up for walking." Sam was flushed and felt disheveled. 

Gabe smirked, "Well, that is my fault Sammicakes, but what was I to do? I mean, you look like...well...you, and I haven't seen or talked to you in DAYS! I thought not ripping your clothes clean off you was showing mountains of restraint. Plus, it would mean a lot to me if you...ya know, tried to pretend you were excited about the date part too." Gabriel seemed to lead with gusto and finish with a genuine lack of confidence often with Sam. He didn't know why. Gabriel was amazing, smart, funny, sexy as hell. He didn't get why he was worried about Sam not liking something he did.

Sam grabbed Gabe's face with both hands, "Look, you. I am very excited about our date. I cannot wait to see why we need to drop by the book store. I love book stores; not a hardship. The fact that you mauled me to the point that I was going to strip us with your poor chauffeur watching...I mean- I'm a mess. Sure you want to take me into public like this?" Sam gestured to his obviously very interested dick, and back to the store.

"That's the best part! Just trust me!" Gabe grabbed his hand and tugged him out the door of the car. 

They didn't stop lumbering toward the door until they were through the two mountains of glass and metal. Alfie had ushered them in and then closed the door behind him.

The lights were dimmed, but there were still plenty to enjoy the presence of books. Sam slowed to an interested walk, craning his head to get a better look every time something caught his eye. Gabe never rushed him. They were in the center of the mall-sized store when Sam stopped in his tracks.

"Where are all the people?" His brows were furrowed and he oscillated like a fan, looking for signs of life.

"There aren't any," Gabe grinned and took his hand, leading him further into the stacks and racks. "I defended the manager against a wrongful embezzlement charge. The evidence fingered one of the Vice Presidents in the mid-west who had his teenage son hack into the store's system to frame my guy. Tricky time figuring out the hacking, but with Ash at my side, I was unstoppable! The dirt he dug up was incredible! Needless to say, when I called my man, he told me he would close up early, sighting inventory anomalies, and left Alfie the key! The place is ours! Plus I opened a tab, so if you find a few books you can't live without- I'm buying. I have a some already on my hit list!" Gabe was rubbing his hands together before he picked up a Lord of the Rings hardcover. "I like the new design. It will look great next to my beat-up copies!"

Sam stood there for a moment. He was the son of a skip-tracer, who was raised by his teenage brother, and he was standing in a huge bookstore that was closed early so his date could impress him. This couldn't be true. Stuff like this did not happen to people, especially not a Winchester. 

"Sammy! Come on! There's more..." Gabe hopped up and down, clapping. Yep. Like a toddler who just saw the dessert cart. It cracked the vice grip of shock, and made Sam smile. Just like the very first moment he had seen him grab that frappe with two greedy little hands and a twinkle in his eye, Sam had fallen for his endearing ability to enjoy life's simple pleasures with his whole heart. It woke up a part of him that didn't enjoy things for fear that they'd be taken away. He wasn't going to think anymore about that. Not right now.

"Right behind you," Sam replied as he followed. He shook his head and spotted the new release section right before he smelled it: pizza. Sam jerked his head up to see two tables filled with four different pizzas, soda, water, beer, salad, and cookies. There were two chairs at the end of the second table, candles, and a speaker. 

Gabe waltzed up to the speaker and inserted his phone. He brought up a playlist and started the first song. "Almost Paradise" by Mike Reno and Ann Wilson, off the Footloose Soundtrack. Sam couldn't keep it together any more. He stopped in his tracks and just let a few tears fall down his face. He was being woo'd by the biggest sap he'd ever met in his life. First comfort food and flowers, now pizza and smoochy songs. Any sensitive emotion he ever had came flooding his brain and it almost took him to his knees. He was falling for this guy on their second date. Maybe third? But definitely falling. Hard.

"Hey, Sam. What? Is it the music? Did I trigger some bad memory?" Gabe couldn't tell if he needed to rush to Sam or turn off the tunes. He chose Sam. Gabe had Sam in his arms with his head snug up against his chest before Sam spoke.

"You? Did all this? For me?" There absolutely wasn't a hiccup between those words due to crying. Nope. That was just how he wanted say it. With pauses. You know, so he could sound pensive.

"Of course I did." And Gabe squeezed him tighter, "Sam you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and you barely happened to me. I want to make sure you know I care. If I was too over the top, I'm sorry. You make me want to do stupid stuff. Try harder. I'm so sorry about..."

Sam cut him off with a tight squeeze of his own, "No! Please don't apologize. It is perfect. From start to finish. The place, the food, the song...everything. You're perfect." Sam kissed Gabe's head," I'm having a hard time not whisking you to Las Vegas, right now." 

"That," Gabe let his right hand take possession of Sam's left butt cheek, "could be arranged." 

The tension was cut with one sentence. Sam roared out laughing, knowing that if he asked, Gabe would try his damnedest to make it happen. 

"I thought that could wait a few weeks, though when you look at me like that, I can't think of why I'd wait." Gabe let his left hand roam up Sam's chest and bring his face down closer to his. 

Sam stopped breathing. That was THE kiss. The one. The one people talk about when the fireworks go off, and you hear angels sing, and maybe your knees get week. The slow possession of his mouth, the gentle tongue slide...god he just couldn't remember how to get in oxygen.

Oh yea. Talk. "You're going to kill me, aren't you? Kill me with romance and then make sure I'm dead with sex. That is your plan, isn't it?"

"Mmmmmmmhmmmmm. Mmmmmmmmm." Gabe was beyond words, kissing down his neck. 

"Unnnnngggggggg. Gabe. Come here," Sam grabbed his face and hunched over to be eye level with that beautiful god-like man. "We have pizza and salad. Beer and soda. Look, cookies." He turned Gabe's face to look directly at the plate heavily ladened with cookies. "I am not turning you down, but if you don't stop, I'm going to fuck you over this table of books."

"I fail to see the problem." Gabe had grabby hands, and was indiscriminately grabbing Sam. Everywhere.

"I will make it worth your while. I want to date you. I want to enjoy the connections you had to exploit to get me alone in a book store and set up a buffet. I want to look into your eyes and wonder how in the hell I became the luckiest bastard to every wake up in the morning. Let's do this. I want to do this right. With you." 

Gabe stopped grabbing and looked Sam square in the eyes, "Why?"

"Because you make me so happy, I start crying in the middle of a breath. Your joy, the pure joy you take in every adorable moment. I want that part of you too." 

"If you don't watch out," Gabe's head fell, and he became focused on his shoes, "I'm going to fall in love with you, Sam Winchester." The whisper wasn't quiet enough for Sam to miss. 

Sam tipped his head and captured his lips, there was a point to be made, and dammit, he was going to make it. His fingers were tangled in strands of gold when he came up for air, "You'd better watch out for that yourself. I'm right there with you."


	10. Way Past "Adorable" Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smutty-smut, smut. Enjoy!!!

Gabe was amazing. And full. He was amazingly full. Sam knew this because he watched him rub his belly and groan about how he should have stopped at five pieces of pizza and four cookies. He looked like a very happy Buddha, with a small twinge of regret. Sam was very full as well, which was funny. He generally was starving all the time, but only ate until he was comfortable. Food wasn't a big deal with him. He liked it, but rarely overdid. Like tonight. He totally overdid.

He was caught up in the conversation, enjoying the way they were so comfortable sharing embarrassing stories about their brothers, then about themselves. Gabe always upped the ante with another even more unflattering story about himself. It wasn't a competition, but it felt like Gabe wanted to get all his cards on the table. Quickly.

They hashed out exes, parental failures, over-involved sibling stories, and the generally stupid things they'd done on dates. They talked about wetting the bed, the awkward boner in the middle of a speech in high school debate, and the soul crushing humiliation of being rejected by the captain of the varsity soccer team. Twice. 

The moments that had once rocked their existence became the fodder for laughter. They had lived through them. All of them. Even in the darkest hour when they wondered if the world would, in fact, be better without their special brand of stupid, or their clumsy excuse for dating, or the overwhelming dread that they were good for nothing...together they realized that EVERYONE goes through those moments in their own way. Yet, there is always a dawn that holds the most heavenly color of orange against the pale blue of the morning sky. Puppies continue to be born, kittens squint their eyes, chocolate ice cream exists, and some how, in the crazy disaster of the world, there stands the perfect someone who "gets" you...even if you have to wait a while to find them.

Gabe shared that he was 38. He'd been up and down the relationship highway, on both sides of the tracks (and even a few tracks off the rails) and he never found anyone that made him want to be a better him. There always seemed to be a lack of a certain something in his feeling or the other person's feelings. 

Sam shared his general lack of confidence that he was good enough, and how his experience made him wonder if he was right. 

The look of shock on Gabe's face was unexpected. He took it as a personal affront and wanted to track down anyone who didn't think Sam Winchester was the best and most amazing person on the planet, until he decided he rather liked keeping him to himself. He called off the posse. 

Sam could have sat in that leather chair all night. As the pain of fullness began to wear off, Gabe got a little cuddly in the chair, curled up on himself, feet on the armrests. He was so adorable, Sam could have eaten him up, right there. 

That was when it hit him. He wanted to eat him up. He wanted to taste every inch of that man's adorable body. He wanted him all. Maybe, just maybe, he'd have to take a bite now.

"What?" Gabe asked when Sam stood up, rubbed his palms down his thighs and walked the four steps to Gabe's chair. "Something wrong?"

That was all he said, eyebrow cocked in question, but his eyes blazed with the bubbling desire Sam felt within his chest. Hell, every pore on his skin was aching. The need to touch, feel, press against Gabe, and get that all back. It was overwhelming.

He was on his knees. He leaned in, right past Gabe's awaiting mouth, to his neck. Sweet, salty, sublime. His tongue danced from his clavicle to behind Gabe's ear. He became addicted to the taste of him. Wanting more, he sucked Gabe's lobe into his mouth and gently tugged with his teeth. 

"UUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHH, Sam. Good God!" Gabe arched his back off the chair and grasped at Sam's shoulders, back, neck, clinging to him like a lifeline. 

There was no turning back. Sam's skin burned. He started sucking his skin with open mouth kisses, the only care he had was not to leave marks, but his relentless need to have more of Gabe kept him going. He was working on the other ear lobe when he felt a hand on his dick. And he saw black. He gasped, then hissed when Gabe squeezed. 

Too many clothes. Too many clothes. The mantra was running through his head as he started unbuttoning Gabe's shirt, the jacket was already gone, only to find there was a damned undershirt too? Sam grabbed it and ripped it in half from the throat down. He buried his face in Gabe's stomach, sucking, kissing, covering as much skin as he could with his mouth before the next breath he had to take. 

"Sam, Sam, Sam," breathless, Gabe whispered his name over and over, egging him on to continue his inventory of every nook and crany he could find access to. 

"Belt," Sam uttered the single syllable, out of pain. The though of removing his hands from Gabe's soft skin, made him wince, but he needed more. He needed the soft skin at the juncture of Gabe's hip. He needed the inner thigh, the ankle. He needed to drag his chin along Gabe's cock while he documented the sensitive skin low on his abdomen. 

 

Gabriel was a wreck. He stopped formulating coherent thoughts from the first nibble of his ear, but when he felt Sam's face buried in his stomach he had a flash of embarrassment, quickly followed by the most amazing warm feeling in his chest and loins. Sam wasn't shying away. He was tearing off Gabe's clothes in search of getting closer, getting more. Gabe wanted to lose himself in that feeling, and he did. He was a wave of sensation. That was a terrifying yet stupidly amazing feeling to be caught up in, but he loved it. Greedily, he allowed himself to take from Sam. Take everything he was giving. 

The word belt snapped Gabe back into only the barest amount of focus. He had the belt off and pants down in seconds, after which he fell into a trance of delicious sensations. Sam's tongue laving at the crook of his knee...he felt in his dick. Sam's hands pulling him towards his mouth, cradling him both gently and ruggedly, with need. 

His whole body was a sexual organ; pleasure burst at every touch. 

 

Gabe was a puddle of moans and keens, and Sam couldn't get enough. Each moan or whine felt like it sent an electrical charge of pleasure to his cock, and he ached to feel Gabe's skin against his. He wanted to find a way to get his clothes off without letting go, without taking his mouth off Gabe's flesh, but he could not wrap his brain around how he could make that happen. 

Sam whined, and rubbed himself against the chair, Gabe's legs over his shoulder, his attention to his inner thigh had left a mark. Looking at it, red and flush made him curl is hand under Gabe's leg and bring him even closer. His mouth finally descending to Gabe's balls, he licked right down the center of them. He felt Gabe shudder, rocking into the wet, hot contact. Sam loved that Gabe grabbed his head and pulled him into the dick, begging for more. He gave it. Sam sucked one of Gabe's testicles into his mouth, suck and massaging it with his tongue before going to the next. 

Whining with need and want, Gabe uttered one word, "PLEASE" with the breathiest, more beautifully wrecked voice Sam had ever heard. 

Yes, yes he would take him. Sam looked up at Gabe's face for the first time since he laid his mouth on his skin. The sensations of taste and touch had been so overwhelming, he couldn't possibly look at Gabriel. His hair was standing up in every way. Gabe's neck was bowed back, exposed acres of white flesh begged to be sucked and nibbled. Gabe's mouth was red, wet, and open in a silent moan. God yes. This was Sam's wet dream. His perfect kink. A lover lost in his ministrations. 

The only thing left was to strike. Sam licked the head of Gabe's dick, swiping the pool of bitterness and sucking down until he needed to come up for air again. His movement didn't stop. He loved the way his tongue felt as it slid along the silky skin of Gabe's cock, feeling the pulse of his heart beat and the flinches of pleasure. He moved slowly, not wanting the moment to end, wanting to keep the pleasure he felt from holding his man in his mouth, making him squirm. But he couldn't keep up the pace. He needed more. He needed Gabe. This wasn't enough, and he knew then that he wasn't going to wait.

He drug his mouth and tongue over and off Gabe's cock to look at him again, the need to beg overpowered him. He wanted to beg. He was desperate. 

Before Sam could utter a word, Gabe threw himself at Sam, toppling him over and kissed him with reckless abandon. His tongue pushed into his mouth, then Gabe sucked Sam's tongue, wringing the taste of himself out of Sam like he needed it to survive. 

Gabe was on Sam, on the floor, clawing at his t-shirt and scrambling for his fly to open. The hunger for Sam seemed to be just as strong for Gabriel.

"I want you. I need you to take me, Gabe." Sam had helped get his clothes off, and he lay naked on the floor with a very motivated bundle of greedy straddling his lap and sucking on his left nipple.

"Ohhhhhhh. Sam. Really, baby? Are you sure?" Sam knew he wasn't asking if he wanted to have sex, but if he was sure that he wanted Gabe to fuck him. 

His answer was definitive. Sam grasped Gabe under the arms and drug him to meet his lips. While Sam plunged his tongue into the warm heaven of Gabe's welcoming mouth, he pulled his body as close to his as he could, grabbing. Holding tight. "Please," was all he could say.

Gabe hummed an affirmative and began kissing his way down Sam's body. It was Sam's turn to loll his head back and relish in feeling both warm and dizzy with the desire that he'd been craving. He was the knife's edge of "not enough" and "too much" that was perfectly intoxicating.

Gabe was twisting and reaching for something, but couldn't reach, so he was forced to break contact with Sam's skin, and the torture of that brought him up off the floor, reaching to take back what belonged permanently against his skin: Gabe. 

Gone only for a few scant seconds, Gabe was back, and lowering himself between Sam's legs, taking his cock between Gabe's gloriously slick lips. Hands were on his thighs and chest, touching anything that caused a moan, but the right hand slid lower, cupping his balls. Sam couldn't help his hips that rocked forward without his permission. Gabe didn't stop. They went lower, towards his ass. Gone for seconds, Gabe's hands left his skin cool in their absence. 

The reward was the pressure of a finger against Sam's ass, pressing into him, filling him, leaving that empty feeling he'd had for so long, in the past.

 

Gabe was a gentle and thorough lover, taking his time, responding to moans, grinding, and begging Sam threw his way. There was no rushing it. If nothing, Gabe could have gotten off just like this. He was close, each of Sam's guttural cries left him feeling high and harder, if that was at all possible. The tip of his tongue traced his own lips, watching the delicious undoing of a very sexy Sam Winchester. He was going to make him come so hard he'd forget his name, but Gabe would never forget it. If Sam walked out from this encounter and never spoke to him again, Gabe would die an old man, remembering the day he made love to the love of his life. This was the moment he knew would be etched in his brain forever. It was the fullest his heart had ever felt, knowing he held Sam in the palms of his hands. It was terrifying and electrifying. 

Gabe had the condom on without slowing his fingers, their path caused Sam to relax and open to him. Gabe pushed Sam's knees back, rolling his ass upwards just enough, where Gabe could slide inside. Slowly, his dick breached Sam's ass, and the pressure was so delicious he had to hold his breath. It was so moving, he felt his whole heart open to this man beneath him. 

"Oh, Gabe, yes. Now. Take me. Don't stop," Sam called as he arched his back to grind down on Gabe's dick. That combination broke Gabe's reverie, and Gabe started snapping his hips to fill Sam, to fuck him, to make him Gabe's, and Gabe's alone. 

"Fuck, so good for me Sam. You are so hot, so tight, so perfect. Fuck, yes." 

There were no sounds from Sam. All the sensations were flooding his senses and his eyes were clenched tight. He was hands and hips and filthy moans of want. He placed his hand over Gabe's heart, while his other hand grabbed his hips and pulled him closer. Gabe felt his whole body arch, pounding harder into Sam's body, willing himself not to come. Not yet. Sam had to first. So, Gabe grabbed ahold of Sam's swollen cock and started bringing Sam closer to coming with Gabe. 

He underestimated Sam's need for help. Three pumps of his fist and Sam was coming with a moan, whole body shudders bringing his shoulders and head off the floor, grasping at Gabe. Watching that sight was all it too; Gabe came right then, pitching forward until he had landed on Sam, pushing him back on the floor.

Gabe winced at his rug burned knees, and the oversensitive rush of pulling out of Sam. He grabbed for the shreds of his undershirt to clean them both of the come that had covered their sweat and saliva slicked bodies. He laughed as Sam's moan and grunt only abated when Gabe was tucked back into Sam's arm.

"Well, that's off my bucket list. I didn't know it was on my bucket list, but sex with you in a book store should be on everyone's bucket list. But they can't have you, so they will all have to die knowing that the best thing in life is beyond their grasp." Gabe's rant had some anxiety behind it, but he knew there was pride too. He wanted to make sure Sam knew that he was the best there was, and that he didn't want to let him go. He felt like he just had to keep talking.

"I love you too, Gabe. C'mere." Sam slurred, and enveloped the happiest man in the world on a floor that would clearly need cleaning before customers came in the morning. "Give me a few minutes, and then we are going back to my house and having one more round." 

Gabe, who was glued to Sam like a second skin only nodded and hung on. He knew he'd have to let go at some point, like in another 50 years, but right now, he wasn't going give it a second thought.


	11. Al Sucked the Adorable Out of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy was high from the night, but Dean had his reservations about Gabe's methods. An unexpected phone call turns his world upside down and makes him wonder what other "shoes" were going to drop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my absence! Work has been nutty and I was sick last week. Glad to be able to dig in again!

"He took you where?" Dean was surprised that Sam was home so late, but then again, he really wasn't. Sam had been mooning over this guy. Like, teenage-girl mooning. He actually saw him doodle Gabriel's name on his grade book Monday night.

"A book store. He had the manager close it down, had food in there, and bought me the whole Tolkien collection because I didn't have it." Sam held up the bag in front of him as evidence that he did, indeed, go to a book store. Sam was trying to hide the smile that kept creeping its way onto his lips. 

Dean rubbed his hand through his hair and then back down over his face, "How much money does this guy have again?" Dean knew he looked tired, but he felt worried. Sam never fell in love lightly. The giddy, freshly screwed look on his brother's face was a big beacon that he was well on his way to dotting Gabriel with a heart. 

"It isn't about the money. He knows people. He knew the pizza guy and the book store manager. I mean he is a defense attorney, so there are grateful people out there. He's good at what he does." Sam had turned away and was placing the books, gingerly, onto the bookshelf. He hesitated over Dean's Vonnegut and must have thought better of it. He moved some of the random paperbacks instead. 

Dean didn't need eye contact. He knew that it was the wrong path to head down. He recognized the protective set in his shoulders, the stubborn clench in his jaw. He was looking at his dad. Sammy was always more like dad than Sam ever thought, but Dean saw it. He didn't like to point it out. That was a recipe for a fight; he just used that observation as a signal it was time to shut up and move on. If he wanted a fight, now was perfect. There just didn't seem to be any reason to pick one now. Sam was happy. That was all Dean ever wanted. Dean liked Gabriel. It was just that his brother spidey-senses were tingling. 

"Your silence is deafening. I can hear you judging Gabe from here," Sam crossed his arms and widened his stance. 

He had guessed right. Sam was ready for a fight. Now he had the choice to jump in or smooth it out. He'd have to see how it went.

"No, I'm not. I'm just wondering how many books the guy is going to buy you next time, or what store he is going to shut down to impress you," Sam's brows furrowed, but Dean kept going, "Dude. I like him. He's funny. He makes killer food. He makes you smile. It's my job to worry, Sammy. That's all."

Sam deflated. Those were the magic words. 

"I'm glad you found him, Sammy. I really am. Dude, I'm beat. You've got school tomorrow. Tell me all the skeevy details tomorrow over a beer," and Dean was already walking. He made it into his room, and closed the door. He was standing in the middle of the room, hands on his hips, head hung down, wondering if he was going to have to pick the pieces up for Sam this time. Gabe seemed on the level, but the whole book store thing was over the top. It made him wonder when the act was going to drop and what was behind it. 

That was when the phone rang, "Hello?" Dean didn't know of anyone but a booty call make his phone light up this late at night. 

"Winchester?" came a gruff voice. It had a hint of something familiar, but Dean couldn't put his finger on it.

"Who's askin'?" Dean voice slipped into the chillingly hard edge he hadn't used in years. Not since the last job with his dad. 

"Huh. Didn't think you'd forget me so soon, my little protege." 

"Al. Why the fuck are you calling me," Dean wasn't asking a question, but giving a warning. 

"Aw, is that anyway to speak to an old friend? After all the jobs you and your old man did for me? You'd think I'd hear a little gratitude or some pleasure at hearing from me after all these years, Dean?" The light tone to Alistair's voice did little to hide the sarcasm. His words were made to taunt, to hit at his core, and Dean knew it. There wasn't a word that came out of Al's mouth that wasn't uttered for a specific purpose. 

Dean wasn't going to give an inch, "I'm outta the biz."

"Well, maybe you are, and maybe you aren't. That isn't the point of this little conversation. I have a bond I need back. You are the only one that I can trust to bring the bastard in, and I need you."

"Lose my number," Dean seethed into the phone.

"Aw, Dean. Don't you owe me one? Think of your dear old dad, and how he'd feel to know that his oldest and favorite son was shunning the man that put food the belly of his kids? The disappointment. The lack of manners. Plus, the money. Isn't that what you were always shooting for? The biggest bond I had? Well this one is 1.5 million dollars. He is a sick son of a bitch."

"So he's related? Al, I have a life now. You're not listening. I don't do this shit anymore," Dean's patience and quite frankly, his resolve was slipping. The thought of going back in the business was making him sweat. He didn't know if the adrenaline he felt pumping through his veins was out of dread or anticipation. He just knew he made a deal with Sam. No more jobs.

The rumble of Alistair's voice vibrated in his ear, "Mmmmmmmmmm, sounds like someone isn't so sure of that. Like you might want your cut. Especially since it is the con who killed your dad. Johnny Azazel is out. The cock suckers gave him parole, and he got nabbed for another murder. They never pinned anything on him more than conspiracy last time, so he got out. This time, they had enough where they thought they could put him away for life. But he jumped. I want that bastard, dead or alive, but I need you."

Dean heard the words, but they were coming through muted, like he was underwater, trying to listen to Sam tell him a story while he was in the bath. That and he couldn't breathe. 

"What the fuck did you just say?" Dean barked. 

Al ramped up the false innocence, "You didn't know that? Your dad was killed on his last job."

"No. He drank himself to death."

"That is bullshit, and you know it."

Dean felt the spinning room tilt. He grasped at the dresser to the left of him, steading himself. It was an anchor, but not a solution. "No."

"No one told you? Not surprised. Sure wouldn't be that piece of shit, Bobby Singer."

"Watch it," Dean snapped, "Bobby is ten times the man you'll ever be and a better dad me than John was. You are feeding me a line of shit. I'm going to burn this phone. Never call me again."

Dean hit the red button to end the call, cracked the back off of the phone and pulled out the sim card. He smashed it, and shattered the phone. It took three flushes to get all the pieces down the toilet before he was packing a bag. He was going to have to leave town for a few days, get some research done, and figure out how much of the bullshit Al was spewing was real and how much was his patented manipulation. 

If he needed Dean, he was in a shit storm of trouble. Dean was done, out of the game for over ten years. He hadn't done much to keep sharp but his weekly trips to the range that he never told Sammy about or the boxing he did on his lunch break over at the gym. The trainer was for stress, that is what he told himself. Three times a week, he got in the ring and pounded out all the shit he kept locked down tight and the panic attacks eased up. He hadn't done any tracking or hand-to-hand in forever. He wasn't going to be able to take down a criminal on his own. Not in the shape he was in. He was comfortable, getting decent sleep and he had, at some point, stopped looking over his shoulder. 

None of that mattered at the moment. He needed to figure out if he and Sam were in danger, and fast. Bobby had some answers to share, but not before Dean did his homework. He'd leave Sam a note and get a new phone. In fact, he may have to leave that up to Gabe. He would leave a message at Gabe's office when he stopped for gas. Gabe would get Sam a new phone. The pieces that were swirling down the toilet weren't going to make it easy for Sam to text. 

New phones, new numbers, code 5, and an unplanned trip out of town. Sam would be pissed, and probably scared, but he couldn't stay. He was wasting fucking time already. 

He pulled the bag with all his ID's, guns, and cuffs out from under his bed. The dust cloud billowed up, but it was packed, ready to go, just like he knew it would be. He'd need the ID's if he was going to get the coroner's report from his dad's death, and if he was going to pull this Azazel guy's records from the court house. He didn't want to go back there. He said he never would. Fuck. 

The bitch of it was that Dean felt like he was stepping out of a fog. His hand was steady, he knew just what to do, and he was calm. 

That should have been the first warning sign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had an epiphany as to where the story needed to go. I see another 10 chapters before wrapping it up with a nice little bow.


	12. Waking Up, Not so Adorable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam had to put the pieces together that morning. Gabe. His job. The students. His life. Was it all going to disappear?

Sam woke up to the alarm clock that had been plugged into the wall. He hadn't used an alarm clock for about five years, and the dust on the snooze button betrayed its own outdated status. How in the hell it had been plugged in and set for 5:34 am was on Sam's list of curiosities until he spotted the note in Dean's unique block print. 

Code 5. Will be back as soon as I can.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. The words kept repeating as he sat up straight, rubbed both palms up and down his face until the sleep and confusion was a distant memory. He smoothed back his hair and stood up.

Cover Blown.

That was the code his dad would shout as he burst through the doors of countless motels. The boys were trained to get packed and have their bags in the truck in about sixty seconds. Time was an issue if a violent con knew who and where you were. The boys weren't something John talked about, but every once in a while, someone found out they were there. John made sure the job was abandoned for the boys. When they were young. Later, Code 5 came through on pagers, then cell phones and the boys had to fend for themselves as they got older. It was always the same. Be somewhere they didn't expect to find you. 

Fuck.

Sam was up and packed with as many changes of clothes that would fit into his duffle bag before the heat left his sheets. When he sat down on the mattress again, longing to return to that warmth only crossed his mind for a split second. He reached under the bed and pulled out the 45 he had duct taped to the bed frame, and then went back for his IDs that were tucked in against the headboard. Dean didn't know about these, but he couldn't sleep without them. They kept the nightmares at bay.

The note meant that he had no phone. That explained the alarm. Why Dean hadn't woken him up to go with him, he only had to guess. Dean had to do the recon. Sam had to lay low and not set off any alarms. Business as usual. Except it wasn't. Fuck.

He needed to shower, but he needed to get to work with time to contact Gabe. If Gabe couldn't get ahold of Sam, he'd get worried. They texted off and on all day, then all night. They called. They messaged. After last night, especially after last night, when Sam admitted to himself and a little bit to Gabe, that he was falling for him. He couldn't go off the radar. It was now 5:39, and he was grabbing his school bag. Sam stopped at the door. He scanned the room for anything that he might have forgotten. He saw the picture of him and Dean on the fridge. That was the only thing he was going to take the time to grab.

It was 5:41 when he got into his car and decided that he had to go to Gabe's house. He had to take the chance to catch him before Gabe left for work. Sam could call in for a sub, but if Dean was going to be back, then he needed to be somewhere that Dean could find him. He didn't want Sam to run, but Sam was smart enough to NOT be where someone might look for him.

If Gabe wasn't up for this, he'd do like they always did. Turn to the Yellow Pages and pick the first motel in the book. Dean would ask for "Rockford" when he arrived. That was how they rolled. It was the system. 

He was at Gabe's by 6:02, buzzing the intercom, praying that Gabe would answer. Sam had a little over an hour to talk to Gabe, shower (if possible,) get redressed, and get back to school. He was required to be there by 7:40 am, but students knew he was there earlier and came for help sometimes. He didn't need to raise any red flags. God, Gabe, please answer the door!

"You'd better be on fire if you are interrupting me this early," were the mumbled but pissed off words that echoed in the intercom.

"Gabe."

"Sam? Come on up," Gabe perked up immediately, like the sleep slid off his voice.

The buzzer unlocked he door and Sam made short work of the distance between him and Gabe. 

"Sam? What's with the baggage?" was all Gabe could get out before he was wrapped up in Sam's arms.

Sam whispered,"Long story." He pulled back to look into Gabe's eyes. He hesitated only a moment before he went in again for the hug. "I have to ask you a favor you can say no to... if you don't want to get involved." Sam was giving Gabe an out. They didn't know each other well enough for this, but Sam wished they did. He wanted the time not to matter. He really wanted to pack Gabe in the car and drive out of town, but he knew Dean would be back and be looking for him. Shit.

Gabe was clinging to Sam, "Hey, kiddo. You're scaring me."

"Good. This is scary. Fair warning, it won't get better from here. Once I tell you, you can say no. I won't hold it against you, but I gotta move fast." 

Sam let go and took Gabriel's hand. He sat them both on the couch, putting down the bags when he realized that they'd be in the way there. Gabriel's eyes tracked their movement, then met Sam's.

"OK. So here is the short version. Dean's gone. He left me a note that our cover was blown. That means our past knows we are here. He dumped my phone, and that's why I'm here. I didn't want you to worry." Sam paused.

"Too late."

"It gets worse," Sam hung his head and continued, "Dean will be back. I need to be where he can find me. I'm asking if I can stay here. Which you don't need to agree to. What's coming after us must be bad if Dean left. He never leaves me. Well, only that one time, but it was for a job. I'm getting off track."

"Done. You're staying with me. I'll buy you a new phone and have Alfie deliver it personally."

"Gabe, you don't really know what..."

"Don't you contradict me, Winchester. You wake me up this morning. No. You wake me up in that coffee shop, and make me realize there is more to life than work. You make me fall head over heals. Then you waltz in here with 'You don't have to take me in during my life crisis' and some bullshit about not wanting to involve me? Well, too damned bad. I'm involved. You're staying with me. I'm giving you anything you need. And I'll be damned if you are getting hurt while I have something I can do about it." Gabe's beautiful honey colored eyes were glowing with a brightness that took Sam aback. 

Sam took Gabe's hand.

"I mean it, Sammy. You have five seconds to tell me the rest or so help me, no sex for a month! No. Wait. A week. I'm only so strong." Sam saw the wink was meant to lighten the mood, but he only felt the sting of tears he had to fight back. There was no time for an emotional breakdown, or break through. There was no time.

"Fine. Thank you. Here it is. I don't know. I know that Code 5 means our cover is toast. That means someone knows where we are. But, Dean didn't tell me to leave. We have a code for that too. He set my alarm for me. That means I'm supposed to keep going, business as usual. No flags raised. I have about 45 minutes before I have to leave here. I gave myself time in case I had to check in at a hotel. I need a shower and to get ready for work. I need to stow this stuff. There's no way I can get a gun on campus, even though I will probably need it. If I carry around cuffs or zip-ties, and someone sees, I'm going to get arrested. It will look bad. I am going to be defenseless. Oh shit. I'm going to put my students in danger," Sam's head fell into his hands, and he took a deep breath. "No. Dean would have told me not to go back to school. Dammit!"

Gabe ran his fingers through Sam's hair. "No. We've got this. We totally have this. I've got your back. You do know that I'm a defense attorney, right? Do you think I don't know my way around a threat? Give me an hour. I will have the school secure. What is the use of all this money if I can't use my powers for good?"

Sam looked at Gabe like he was impossible. He couldn't be real. No one ever put their necks out for the Winchesters. No one but Bobby. Well, Bobby was special. "Can I use your phone?"

"You can use this one. I'm going to use my other line. Get through a shower. Yes, I am making breakfast. Yes you are going to eat. You'll need your strength if things go pear-shaped today. I'm even making you a lunch. Yes...I know. I'd make a great wife. You can thank me later. Get moving, Winchester. Clock is ticking." With that, Gabe was a lawyer again. The love (Sam thought it was love. He hoped it was love) had dissipated from his eyes, and calculation took its place. 

Sam heard him say, "Give me Michael, and no, I don't give a fuck what time it is. Tell him it's Novak and this is not a god damned drill," before Gabe had made it down the hall.

Sam punched in Bobby's number and heard it consider ringing before Bobby was yelling into the phone, "What in the name of..."

"Bobby."

"Awww, hell, Sam." He knew. Bobby always knew, "Guess Dean isn't coming in today. Where are you?"

"Safe."

"You gonna tell me what's coming, or am I going to have to go all psychic and figure it out for my damned self?"

"I don't know. Dean left a Code 5."

"Balls."

"I'll call you from my new phone when I get it. You can leave me a message here. I'll tell you more as soon as I know. Dean wanted me to stay put. He said he'd be back soon."

"Balls."

Sam said, "I've got to go. Talk soon."

Bobby hung up the yellow rotary phone that sat on the small bedside table. On the shelf below, he picked up the address book, and looked up a number. He should have done this years ago, but he honestly thought Alistair wasn't stupid enough to tell Dean. Now all hell was breaking loose and he was too old to help the boys. There was only one thing that he was worried about, and it was the man with yellow eyes that killed John. That satan-worshiping son-of-a-bitch that took his best friend, orphaned his boys, and meant that he had to break out his shot gun. If he had to skin Alistair himself, he'd get to the bottom of this. Sam and Dean had been through enough. The last thing they needed was their past catching up with them.

Sam was in and out of the shower, taking no time to admire the hickeys on his chest. He would have to reminisce later. There was just...no time. He was dressed by 6:35, and eating the breakfast burrito Gabe had made, carrying his brown paper sack of something good out the door five minutes later. Gabe had already taken the other bag somewhere he considered safe. There was a quick kiss, like they had been married for 15 years, before Sam was in the car. 

He didn't notice the black sedan pull up in front of Gabriel after he turned the corner. He didn't hear a man named Michael getting all the details Gabriel was listing off for him. Sam didn't know that while he welcomed his first period class, there were guards posted on every entrance of the school in street clothes. He didn't know that the principal had been briefed on the classified security team, and been put in contact with the District Attorney who verified that the school contained a material witness in a case, who required protection. He was to comply or be held on charges of obstruction of justice. Sam didn't know that Gabriel had called in every favor he'd been holding on to with every important, high level person in the city. 

He thought it was odd that Alfie walked into his classroom with the phone, black and preset with all of Gabriel's numbers. There were a lot of them. The students whispered as he left without a word, asking who that was. Sam just smiled. 

"Is that your boyfriend, Mr. Winchester?" Wally, in the back row asked.

"No, Wally."

Ella shouted out, "Not cute enough for you! You deserve better!"

"Guys, I'm not talking about my personal life with you, so let's let it go."

Zack called out, "Awwww, Mr. Winchester. We don't care you're gay, but you can't tell us you aren't seeing someone. We know. We can tell."

The students all nodded. 

"You can tell?" Sam narrowed his eyes and flinched, making his head tilt to the side. He was suppressing a side grin. "How?"

"Your phone," several students answered in unison. 

Becky pipped up, "You see, although it is on silent, it still lights up to notify you that you have a message. Someone has been blowing up your phone. We know these things. No one ever calls you. Not that that is a bad thing, Mr. Winchester. But this week, you've been getting an average of 6 texts per period. We've been collecting data."

"You've been what?" Sam's eyebrows were lost somewhere in his hairline, hand on his hip.

"Oh ya. I contacted Bella, Jo, and Lisa. Between the four of us, we covered most of your class periods. With the help of a few others, we collected the data to support the hypothesis that you were getting some. Numbers don't lie. You've got a boyfriend. I'd say it could be a girlfriend, but Bella saw that the name was Gabriel. Jo and Lisa confirmed. Congratulations, by the way. That guy just doesn't look the part."

Sam was speechless. He figured that Becy, of all people, would nose into his personal life, but the smiling faces in his class were a bit of a surprise. 

Ash cleared his throat, "Look, you're our favorite teacher. We aren't going to narc on you. We don't want anyone picking on you. But, you've been happy lately. Not today. Today you look like crap, but lately. We're rootin' for ya!"

Sam smiled and then forced the corners of his mouth down, nodded his head, and said the only word he could, "Thanks."

He cleared his throat and threw them a bone, "You're right. That wasn't him." With that, he turned around and started writing the next writing prompt on the board. He tried to ignore the squeals of delight from Becky and high-fives the kids were sharing. He forgot the hell of the morning for a moment and felt some love welling up in his heart. These kids did not have to support him. They didn't have to "root" for him. He felt hope for the second time that day. That scared him.

This was his life. His whole life. Gabe. His students. His career. He'd never had anything in his life, besides Dean and dad, that he couldn't and would leave with a minute's notice.

He finally had something he was afraid to lose.


	13. Gabe Isn't Adorable to Anyone But Sam Right Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe is using all of his powers to get a plan together for helping Sam. Castiel wants to help and find out why Michael is there.

Castiel was worried about Gabriel. He was on a tear today. So far, he had made an intern cry, left two meetings to take a phone call, and looked like he was ready to take on Heaven's Garrison all on his own. Castiel was praying nothing had happened between him and Sam. Sam had made Gabriel smile at something other than fart jokes and Snickers. That was a real accomplishment. 

Castiel frowned when he saw Michael walk into Gabriel's office. He hadn't seen their older brother for years. Michael was dressed in plain street clothes and a dossier under his arm. That was odd. He wore suits. Period. Something was not right. Normally, Castiel didn't interfere with Gabriel's private dealings, but this wasn't private. This was family.

He opened the door to Gabriel's office, following Michael in.

"Brother," Michael offered, "You're looking well."

"As are you," Castiel responded.

Gabriel barked from behind his desk, "Now that we're all caught up here, what did you find out so far, Michael?" 

Castiel sharpened his gaze at Gabriel, but remained silent. He wanted to help. Clearly, there was an issue at hand. 

"Winchesters, Samuel, Dean, and Jonathan. Jonathan was an auto mechanic until his wife's death. Then he was employed by Al's Bail Bonds in Carson City, Nevada for years. He traveled around from state to state, hunting criminals who escaped their bonds pretrial, during trial, and pre-incarceration date. His sons, Samuel and Dean were not enrolled in any school for more than four months, though the grades that were posted for those schools were average or better. Sam and Dean both had IQ tests at their school in St. Louis, revealing that the behavioral issues didn't stem from a lack of intelligence. Sam has an IQ of 154, while Dean scored a 162.  
Samuel is currently an English/History teacher at the school we have under surveillance. Dean works in the automotive repair industry with their foster father, Bobby Singer. Singer's home is also under surveillance.  
Jonathan was considered a world-class bounty hunter, brining in, on average of 75 bonds per year. Most of them were considered armed and dangerous. He was found dead in his hotel room. His body had undergone several broken bones, lacerations, and contusions. The cause of death was exsanguination. His killer was never arrested and no one was ever charged, although the word in the community was that Johnny Azazel was responsible. He is a gang-related hit man, who has never been tried for anything they could make stick. He was in jail for aggravated assault. He was granted early release. Then he was arrested for the murder of a man from Reno, Nevada. His bond was set, but he fled. The man from Al's Bail Bonds, held his bail. Alistair is looking for someone to bring him in, to get back his sizable investment."

"Do we know what this Azazel guy looks like?" Gabriel hand his arms crossed throughout the entire recount of information, and had reached up to rub his bottom lip with his thumb. "I want to know what he looks like and where he is. I want to know now."

"He was last seen in a Denny's in Reno, leaving in a stolen Green Honda Accord, which was left in a parking garage in Sparks, NV. There were 23 counts of grand theft auto that day; we are running the leads to see where those cars are now. At the moment, I don't have a lead. Here is a picture from his mug shot. This is the most recent photo we have." 

Castiel gathered his muster and asked, "Is Sam in danger?"

Michael's reply was simple, "Yes."

Gabriel threw his paperweight against the wall. The people outside the wall flinched and walked a wide circle around Mr. Novak. He wasn't someone to be crossed when he was in a good mood, though this was a tirade of a size they'd never seen, even from him. 

Silently, his secretary filled up the candy dish, and ordered lunch: Chinese, Mexican, and Burgers. She called the coffee shop and ordered each of his favorite coffee drinks. She was taking no chances. She redirected every call and rescheduled every client for the next two days. Anna was good at her job, and while she loved Gabriel as a boss, she considered him a friend. She was worried. But as his secretary, her job was to keep the business moving regardless of his court schedule or meetings. Anything she could send to an intern or junior partner was reassigned. This was her version of battening down the hatches, and she ran a tight ship. She had seen Castiel and the other Mr. Novak (he worked for some governmental agency no one ever spoke of) enter the office, and knew this was not going to be a normal meeting.

The phone rang. It was the first number Gabriel had given he as one of the two numbers that were to go through to him regardless of his status. She was to "hunt him down in the can if need be" if this number came up.

"Mr. Novak's line, Anna speaking. How may I assist you today?" No one could have detected her concern from her voice. That persona was well polished.

"Um. This is Sam. Gabriel told me to call this number. If he's busy, I could just leave a message." The man on the line was hesitant and clearly wanting not to interrupt Gabriel.

"Oh no, Mr. Winchester. Please hold for just a moment. I will patch you right through."

Anna got up, knowing that Gabriel would yell at her for interrupting, and she didn't want to do it over the intercom. She poked her head in, her presence stopping all conversation, and said, "Mr. Winchester is on line 3 for you sir."

She watched Gabriel's rigid stature melt, as he crumpled into the chair. He held the phone to his ear and she left.

"Sam," Gabe breathed, "Are you OK?" He was nervous, but relieved. All this ranting and raving was about keeping him safe. Safe from the very real danger he knew about...now. Sam didn't know any of it. He had to tell Sam, but not now. He was at school and couldn't do a thing. Plus, it might not be up to him. This kind of thing probably should come from Dean. He was getting a migraine.

"Hey," Sam took a cleansing breath. Hearing Gabriel's voice on the other line was like getting oxygen after being under water for seconds too long. He'd been on pins and needles most of the day. "Got the phone."

"I can see that," Gabe responded with the playfulness Sam needed to hear in his voice. There was something else hidden in there. Stress, a tension, but Sam wasn't going to pick at that thread right now. 

"Thank you," the gratitude was heartfelt. "By the way," Sam added, "my students have been counting up your texts. You are averaging six per class session. And- they don't think Alfie is cute enough for me."

"He's a good kid, but you were made for someone with a more distinguished flair. It's true. When will you be home?"

That question caused Castiel's eyes to widen, but Michael never flinched. Michael didn't, as a rule. He was always the good little solider who knew more than anyone else. 

"I want to leave by 4pm, but I'll hang out longer if you have to work."

"No. Leave then. I'll leave here too, have Anna rebook all my appointments. I will meet you at home. We have things to talk about Sam," Gabe's voice was serious.

Sam swallowed, "Second thoughts?" He sounded weaker than he wanted to. The highs and lows of the day were easier to deal with when you were moving and in the middle of things. Being vulnerable in the corner of the staff lounge with your new boyfriend on the phone...well, that made things all too real. 

"Um, no. Sammy, you are going to have to try a hell of a lot harder than that to get rid of me. Especially after last night. I mean it. No, we just need a battle plan. I like a good plan with bases covered and contingencies. We also want to connect with Dean as soon as possible. I want all the information, so I can know what we are up against." Gabe's bravado wasn't faked. He wanted all of those things, but he had most of them in place. He just didn't need to tell Sam that. Not yet. 

"Good. If you had, I'm not sure I could handle that," Sam huffed out a laugh, but continued, "Do you want me to meet you there?"

"You know what? No. I'm going to have Alfie pick you up. He'll get you set up at home, that way you can relax. I will take a car from the office. When should he be there. When are you good to leave?"

Sam swallowed and thought about his schedule. He could leave at 3:30, and after today, he'd probably just bring all his work with him. He was going to make "sub-quality" plans for the next few days. Those take forever to type up. Yea. He'd leave early, "3:30," he blurted out.

"Alfie will be in front of the school. If you can swing it, please walk out with someone else. I've had this speech given to me a million times. A group makes you less of a target. Alfie is not a badass. He cannot protect you, but he can drive like a getaway driver. Please call me when you are home, unless I'm already there. I worry." Gabriel's last two words were steeped in so much emotion, so much concern that Sam's heart felt stretched. Dean was good at making Sam know that someone cared about him, but he'd never felt so loved. It was overwhelming and weird and confusing, especially in the wake of all this uncertainty.

"I will. You sappy bastard. You want me to well up before my next class starts? Keep talking. Otherwise, can you crack a joke or something?" Sam sniffed and wiped his eyes. The man was killing him.

Gabriel chuckled, glad for the diversion, "Just get that sweet ass of yours to class Mr. Winchester, before I write you up for sexually harassing me."

Gabriel hung up the phone, smiled to himself, then looked straight at Michael, "I have never asked anything from you, Michael. Never. Not since we were kids and I wanted your candy bar. I am asking you this. Keep my Sam safe. Do whatever the fuck you have to do. I want this asshole found. I want that Al guy interrogated. I want anyone who is a threat's head on a stick. Yes, this is a tall order, but I am not letting anything happen to Sam. I love him."

Castiel covered his mouth with his hand. It was an involuntary movement. "Gabriel."

"I know, Cas. But it's true. He snuck in and stole my heart. If something happens to him, Cas. I..." Gabriel stopped talking and just looked helpless. 

Michael stood up and tugged at the clothes that looked foreign on him, "I'll do what I can, Gabriel. I do owe you for Boston. And Tallahassee. I happen to be between assignments, so I can help out for about a week. Anything beyond that, and it will be out of my hands. Honestly, this is a good training exercise for my new recruits. They know nothing, and do what they are told. I've shown them pictures of those to be protected. They all have a headshot of the target. I'm currently running all known aliases and known associates. I'll send you an encrypted file later this evening. Castiel..." Michael nodded in Castiel's direction while he stood to leave. Gabriel nodded in affirmation and then sat down at his computer, typing something furiously.

"Gabriel, what can I do to help?" Castiel asked in earnest. "I want to help."

"Honestly, if you could figure out where in the hell Dean Winchester is, that would make a huge difference. But in reality, if you could help me rearrange my schedule and maybe find some lunch, that would be amazing. I need to be freed up."

Anna walked in with all of the orders she had made, "I wasn't sure what this situation called for, so I just bought everything. I figured I could "gift" some to the lackies you've been abusing today if you didn't want something." Her red hair glowed around her in the afternoon light, let in by the windows in his office.

"I love you," Gabriel moaned as he took the hamburger and frappe off her tray, "I also need..."

"I've tabled everything but the meeting with Roman. That I couldn't reschedule. I'm sorry. I have interns doing your research, and junior partners writing briefs, following up with interviews and all your other "duties."

Gabriel stopped and looked at her like she had fallen from heaven, "I don't deserve you," was the thank you he wanted to say.

"I know," Anna replied as she walked out the door with the remnants of food that Gabriel hadn't taken. 

Castiel looked at Gabriel again, "I still want to help. I will take your Roman meeting. I am the other partner in this firm. Certainly he cannot have an opposition to that."

"Yea he could, because he is a dick, but thanks. You are a life saver. I'm not sure I could get through that meeting without punching him in his douchey smile. Good luck not killing him yourself. Seriously. I'm going to wrap up any loose ends I can find that Anna may or may not know about. I'm checking up who she appropriated my work to, and will then take off. Sam is probably going to need a little support after he hears all this. I don't think Dean told him most of it, and from what it sounds like, maybe Dean didn't even know that their dad was killed. Cas, I'm worried about him."

"I am very happy that you found someone to care for, Gabriel. Your heart is truly open. I can handle Roman. I will also find Dean. I have some skills as a detective myself," Castiel gave a secret smile as he turned to leave Gabriel's office. "Good luck."

"Thanks, brother. I am going to need. it."


	14. Adorable Tested Under Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK- if you have any trauma that you might be worried about being triggered by a character reacting to new of a death...skip this chapter once you get the Sam part. It is an integral part of the story, but it isn't light and fluffy. I didn't know I was going in this direction at the start of the fic, but that is where it went. Lighter days will happen, but the next few chapters have some "stuff" to work through. Thanks for sticking with me. This fic has been very rewarding and I can't wait to wrap it up with a bow. Getting closer.

Dean made it to Sparks, Nevada as the sun was thinking about coming up. He'd driven all night, and only stopped to fill up the tank. He'd left a message with Gabriel's voice mail at work, in case Sam's first stop wasn't Gabe's house. He knew it would be. He knew his brother. 

Dean thought the alarm clock was a nice touch. It was all he could think of to send the message that Sam needed to stay and keep a low profile. If he'd done anything else, Sam might not have caught it. He knew that Sam would do what he was supposed to do. They were trained for that. No. They were conditioned for that. John hadn't so much taught them HOW to react or what to do, but had them practice in times of peace, and in times of crisis. There were plenty of mornings they were woken up to "Code 5" yelled from the bathroom, and the boys were packed, in the truck, Dean with a gun in his hand, before John had his hands washed. They had just been moving on, but the practice kept them fast. Kept them alert, on their toes, and looking over their shoulders.

Driving through the night should have worn Dean out. It didn't. It gave him time to run through the checklist of things he had to do. First stop was the station. He changed at the last gas station, into his Fed Suit, he liked to call it. He was planning on headin' straight there before the regular dayshift took hold. He wanted a room with some records and some quiet. Shift changes happened, usually at 6 or 7, depending on the crew they ran. Some changed at 8. Showing up at 5:30 would put him in front of someone tired. Someone who really didn't give a shit what he wanted as long as he wasn't going to stand in the way of that officer going home. That is exactly what he was hoping for.

That is exactly how it worked, too. Officer Riggins was only too glad to show him to an empty interrogation room with the files after Dean showed his badge. Since Dean knew his charms worked equally on both the sexes, regardless of sexual orientation, he turned on the charm. People wanted to trust him. They wanted to befriend him. They wanted to bang him. If he happened to get lucky, he'd get the last person. That person always gave a little extra help. Riggins was good looking enough, that if he wanted someone to spend the morning with, he could have done much worse. 

Dean had Azazel's rap sheet and the coroner's report for his dad's death. If he kept his head down, he could probably walk right out the door in a few hours with both of them. He was just going to run through this piece of crap's file now. Save his dad's. Wasn't ready to start with that one. If he got the intel he wanted, Al's shop wasn't too far. He could easily get there in under a half hour. How badly he was going to kick Al's ass depended on what he found here. 

 

Castiel was an avid reader of true crime novels books and mystery novels. It was all he read. General fiction was usually too depressing, classic non-fiction was too boring, and who reads romance novels anyway? No. He wanted the chase, the grit, the intrigue. He had done more than his fair share of moonlighting on certain cases. He offered his services to the firm that belong to a friend. The one that defended Luc. He'd now racked up over 75 cases in the last eight years. He was getting quite good. He followed his gut, and went with his hunches, just like Gibbs on NCIS taught him to do. Sure, he was fictional, but it was amazing what information you could get from a fictional show that helped you with real detective work. 

Cas had immediately looked up the location where John Winchester died. Sparks, Nevada. If Dean was headed anywhere, that is where he'd go. That's where Cas would go. The beginning. That is also the last place that Johnny Azazel's car was seen, so it made the most sense. Dean probably didn't know that last part. Cas knew he had two choices. He could show up and track Dean down, or he could work from his desk, tracking him. After the hell, which was the last hour with Dick Roman, Cas chose to get in his car. He had preloaded all the destinations he'd need for this job on his GPS and picked up a change of clothes from home. He was on the case. 

While Gabriel took care of Sam, Cas was going to help Dean. Cas owed Gabriel. 

Gabriel was a handful as a human, but he was the best brother. Loyal, trustworthy, eager to lend a hand, and funny. With the family they came from, funny was a life saver. On more than one occasion, Cas had considered his life might not be worth living. Alone. Socially awkward. Professionally inclined. He didn't really know how to make connections to other humans. Cats, he liked. Dogs were too needy. Too slobbery. The point was, Cas had a tough time not having other people connect with. Gabriel's humor gave him hope and rocked him out of many a funk. Cas wanted to help him, for once. 

The real concern was that he'd never met Dean. He was easily able to get a picture from accessing the DMV website, which he wasn't supposed to be able to do. Not really. However, there were a few tricks he'd picked up here and there that helped him in his moonlighting as a private investigator. That was one of them. 

Once he climbed back into his golden boat of a car, Cas had decided to find Dean through tracking his movements. He guessed Dean would start gathering information at the police station or the bail bondsman. He had some time to figure out which it was. Once Dean trusted him, how could he turn down his offer to help?

Sam was two days into sub plans when he heard the key in the lock. Sam was in sweats and a t-shirt, but now he was palming the 45, waiting to see if it was Gabe or someone who would be sporting a hole in their chest very soon. Sam was back to scanning background noise, balancing his weight on his back foot, ready to spring into action, and breathing evenly to be quiet. Everything dad had taught him. 

Gabriel's blonde head peeked around the door, "Sam?" he inquired, allowing Sam's rigid posture to relax. "Jesus, Sam. Were you going to shoot me?"

"Yes. Yes, I was. Well, if you weren't you."

Gabe nodded and started to shed layers of brief case, jacket, tie, and shoes. He paused long enough to reach up and kiss Sam's nose before he was unbuttoning his shirt and walking into his bedroom. Its yellow walls reflected the setting sun, surrounding Gabe in a heavenly glow. Sam felt a little reverent, letting his heart fill with joy. He knew he was blessed by some entity to have Gabriel in his life, but he wasn't sure why he deserved him. If he learned he had to start paying karma back now, he knew that he would. Whatever it took to keep that man, standing there in his boxer shorts and tank top. 

Gabe grabbed a faded Stanford Law hoodie from the back of the door and slipped in on, swimming in the folds of cotton. Maroon armed, he reached out and Sam nuzzled into his ear, pressing his body as close as possible. 

Sam, noticed Gabe's resistance to being whisked into the next phases of seduction. He was good at that. Gabe was good at not letting Sam hide in sex. Their delicious moments of ecstasy were only when they were happy, not angry, sad, or scared. It made Sam question, first, how Gabe was so emotionally stable, and then how fucked up he was for wanting to just forget.

"We have talking to do Samster. I'd like to feed you and fuck you first, but I don't think we have that luxury. Bed or couch?" Gabe didn't pull away, but he did loosen his grasp, which was Sam's hint. The cue to let go and look at him. Sam didn't take the bait. That meant eye contact, and honesty. Nope. He wasn't game for that yet.

"Bed it is. Come on baby," Gabe took his silence as an answer, backing himself up to the bed and sitting down. Sam leaned over and thought of just kissing Gabe until there was nothing left. Gabe had his hands on Sam's cheeks, bringing his face up to meet him, "Sam," was the quietest syllable, the gentle beckoning, and Sam knew he'd have to give in a pull himself together. Man up, as his dad would say. Fuck if he wanted to. He wanted to live in the fantasy that they were a newly married couple, extending their honeymoon in a smutty, sexy, stay-cation. It was a stretch, but Sam needed something other than what he felt coming. 

When Sam finally made eye contact with Gabe, Gabe was looking at him like he was made of glass. Sam felt his gaze cut through him, deep in his core, the warm stare warmed him up. It didn't fix the pain, but it made it less. 

"You're killing me with those puppy dog eyes, Sam. Ok. One kiss. Just one. Then we talk like grown-ups. I make you dinner, and I think of a way to take your mind off everything. Deal?" Gabe's voice was made for talking to a wounded animal. Sam's nod to accept his proposal, sent Gabe's lips in his direction. The best direction. 

Sam had to catch his breath. He wanted fast and wet, but Gabe was slow and full of love. That was the only way to explain the kisses that made him feel cherished. On his cheek, his lips, his nose. They weren't making out. Gabe was kissing him. Claiming him. Letting his lips cling to Sam's flesh, heat up his skin, and the pull away with the pressure of a butterfly wing. The occasional tongue swipe before his lips came together and pushed off Sam's mouth, were more an act of possession than trying to get Sam hot. Sam was hot for Gabe. Not even an chance of ignoring that, but he was lost in the moment, the caress. 

"Gabe," Sam breathed before he felt Gabe pull away.

"That's all for now. I promise there's more. I do. I'm not even sure where to start here, Sam. I'm just not." Gabe was leaning back against the headboard, both hands pushing his hair back, not because it was in the way, but out of frustration.

Sam looked at Gabriel with more curiosity now. There were a million things running through his brain: sex, kiss, safe, danger, Gabe, why, wrong, love, stay. It was difficult to stop on one thought. He wanted to figure out how to make that look of helplessness disappear from Gabriel's face, but Gabe was too fast for him.

"I know things. Things I'm not sure if Dean knows. Stuff I'm sure you don't know. Now I don't know what to do!" Gabe's eyes were looking straight ahead, but his arms were gesticulating around wildly, punctuating his words. He kept going, "I don't know if I'm supposed to wait until Dean gets back to tell you, hide you away in a safe house in Italy until I can fix this problem, or tell you and let you tell me what to do. I'll do anything, Sam. I know you don't have to trust me, and after this you might not. I dug in your family history with some serious disregard for your feelings. I did what I thought I had to do to keep you safe. Now I'm not sure. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you. Shit." Gabe went from a slow confession to an absolute position of begging. He was wrecked. 

Sam went on the offense. "Let's just figure out what you know. How did you get all this intel anyway?"

"My brother."

"Castiel?"

"No. Michael. I can't even tell you how he got it. He won't tell me what he does. I do know it is way beyond black op stuff. I called him when you were calling Bobby. I told him what I knew."

"And?" Sam could have been pissed off, but he just wanted the fucking information. He felt like he was interrogating a student who was cheating. Just give it up. You'll feel better if you give up the truth. This truth had a lot more weight behind it, but that wasn't lost on Sam.

"Your dad didn't drink himself to death; he was murdered."

 

Gabe saw Sam's face change from the scrunched brow of questioning, to the fallen shock of someone who just lost a loved one. 

"But..."Sam looked through Gabe, like he was hallow, transparent, made of shadows. 

"I have the file. There was this guy..."Gabe was trying to tell Sam everything, but Sam wasn't hearing. He wasn't listening.

Sam placed both of his hands over his face, just his fingers balanced on the ridge at the top of his forehead. His eyes were completely obscured, even though Gabe knew they were closed, Sam needed them covered as well. He had turned away from Gabe. His body sagged against the headboard, and the mumbling continued. "But...no...how...no....but."

Gabe stopped talking. That wasn't what was going to help him now. Of course, Gabe had been about as subtle as a chainsaw in the middle of a moment of silence. Fuck. 

He touched Sam's shoulder and felt no reaction. He saw the methodical rocking of Sam's neck, back and forth, eyes still shielded from Gabe, only the word "no" was coming now.

"Sam. Sammy. Come on talk to me," Gabe scooted so that he was straddling Sam's thighs. His hands were on Sam's forearms, still flexed, holding the position of screening his face from the world. "Babe. Its me. Come on."

"Noooooooooo! Fuck, NO! We shouldn't have left! I should have been there. I could have saved him. Dean could have saved him. We should have been there. Fuck. No, no, no, no, no." Sam's words were fast and quiet, almost whispered. "That was my god damned job. Watch his back. Watch Dean's. I fucking didn't do it because of college? Fuck. No. No. No. No. I can't. I just can't. I can't be. Dean would have told me. He would told me that. He wouldn't have lied to me about that." 

Gabe felt helpless. He had been naive enough to think they'd be able to talk this out. Like telling him that something else made him die would be no big thing because his dad was already dead. He was a fucking idiot. He rubbed his hands up and down Sam's forearms, as he kept murmuring, "Shhhh, Sam. Baby, come on, Shhhhh. Its going to be OK. I've got you."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. I should have been there. Selfish. Fucking selfish. I'm so fucking selfish and an asshole. I was mad at him. I was so mad at him for drinking himself to death and leaving us. He could have cleaned up. Maybe he was cleaned up and looking for us. Maybe he was looking for us and was killed."

Gabe leaned his head back and closed his eyes. This was the worst thing he'd ever done. He'd never forgive himself for this. 

Sam's rocking was like a pendulum, "No. No. NO. Dean. That's where Dean went. He went to look for the guy. He's going to try to get the guy. Shit!" Sam's head snapped up and his arms shot down to push himself off the bed. He didn't register that Gabe was attached to him via lap and arms, so there was a moment of being tangled before Sam grabbed Gabe's arms, "I've got to go. I've got to help Dean. You don't understand. I can't lose him too." 

Gabe was hurting. Sam was grabbing him so hard, he felt the bruises start to form, but he didn't flinch. He'd earned this. He wanted the pain. It was what he deserved for breaking it to him like this, "Baby, listen. I have Michael going after him. I have Cas looking. I have people on this. You need to stay here."

"FUCK staying here, Gabe! I need to be with Dean and help him kill this son-of-a-bitch!" Sam's face was torn with pain. 

"No."

"Don't tell me NO, Gabe. You don't know what in the fuck you are talking about. You don't know me. You don't know Dean. You didn't know my dad. He's dead because we left him. That's why. If we'd been there, like we were supposed to be, he'd be alive. He'd be alive right now. And now Dean is out there too, and I won't lose him." Sam was shouting, but not at Gabe, at himself. He didn't notice or care about the tears he had running down his face.

"No." Gabe gritted his teeth and held his ground. If he tried to argue, which was what Sam wanted, he'd get a hell of a fight. He had to keep up the broken record of the only answer Gabe could accept. "No."

Sam gripped tighter on Gabe's arms and was preparing for the next verbal assault when Gabe flinched at the pain, this time feeling like he was caught in a vice. All of a sudden, Gabe free, and fell to the middle of the bed.

"Shit. Oh, I hurt you. Oh, god Gabe, I hurt you. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Oh, Gabe," Sam was on him, searching for bruises, marks, whatever he could find to confirm his abuse. He started kissing his arms, apologizing with each breath, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize I was hurting you. I didn't. Oh god, you must hate me. I swear it was an accident. Oh, no." 

Gabe tried to get his attention. He had been soft, then gentle, then calming, and none of it worked. It wan't until Sam caught that he was squeezing too hard, that he'd registered, so Gabe did what he thought might work. He yelled, "Sam! Stop!"

Sam froze, lips just seconds from making contact with his skin again, eyes glued to Gabe.

"Stop. Stop, and look at me," Gabe pulled Sam to meet him back at the headboard. They took their positions, Sam looking lost and Gabe praying this didn't back fire. "You have to stop. I'm an ass. I did this all wrong. I love you, Sam. I LOVE you. I didn't mean to break you and I'm an ass, but baby, you have to listen."

Sam nodded, and cupped Gabe's face. Sam kissed him with all the emotion a closed lipped kiss could convey, all the love he wanted Gabe to feel back. When he breathed back in, smelling only the sweet carmel and mint scent of Gabe, Sam pulled back and looked. Gabe's eye's fluttered open, and then the clarity came back.

"That man killed your dad, and that is not your fault. Or Dean's fault. It wasn't your dad's fault. It was horrible. You aren't to blame, and if you'd been there, you might have died too. Your dad wouldn't have wanted that. Dean will be back. He said he would. If you aren't here, he will worry. There is a reason he didn't take you with him. You going about your daily life is going to be proof that nothing has changed. I have your school and you, totally secure." 

Sam's eyes were focusing and the mental process was back. Gabe was saying rational things, and Sam knew it.

"You didn't really hurt me, Sam. You were holding on too tight, and that's it. I'm not broken, I'm not hurt. It just was not comfy. You're strong, but you weren't hurting me. I wasn't scared, and I'm not hurt. So, just stop. Breathe. I've got you."

Sam heard all the words Gabe said, but at the last three, he snapped. The dam holding back all the fear and regret fell away. The tears came in racking sobs, and he fell into the fabric covering Gabe's chest. Strong arms wrapped around him. Sam couldn't think anything at all, but he knew right there, he was safe. As safe as he could be. All the other stuff was still terrible, but he was in the arms of a man he loved. 

 

Gabe cursed himself and prayed right to god. All of them, actually. Every one in India, ancient Greece, Norse mythology, he kept going down the line. "Help me keep him safe. Help me make this right." He rocked Sam, prayed, and held on the three strings of hope, Michael, Cas, and Dean, to help him keep these promises to Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking through this one. Who knows, you might be rewarded with a side of some Destiel (all Sabriel shippers have read those fics with 3 lines of Sabriel in them...so I'll throw you a few paragraphs at least!) I promise the next chapter will not send you to the shock blankets. <3


	15. Adorable Diner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas makes a food stop on the way to find Dean, a diner with pie staring at him from its shining case. And who does he spot?

Castiel realized that food was his number one priority. His stomach was louder than the fan whose job it was to force the insects away from the opening doors. His ability to make the required rational decision was also hampered in his current state. Jack's Cafe was what he expected in a diner. There was a glass case filled with cakes and pies, glass and stainless steal were everywhere he look, and the waitstaff were in white. 

He noticed several of the officers from the nearby station were eating from plates covered in cured pork and country gravy. That was the type of review Castiel looked for in a restaurant. Did the locals attend? Did they talk while they ate? In this case, the noise was mostly from the kitchen and the few members of the establishment who hadn't received their meals, as of yet. 

While waiting at the sign, "Please wait to be seated," Castiel did a cursory glance at the cleanliness of the place, and determined that it had been recently scrubbed, while the ficus was on this side of dusty. He couldn't fault them. They were terribly annoying to dust. 

"Darlin' you want some pie for breakfast?" a nearby waitress was surprised by the request of the fellow diner, the octave of her voice increased to a pitch that made Castiel's skin crawl. 

"Well, you said you had cherry. I saw the crust on it, and I gotta tell you, I could use some cherry pie right now. For desert, I'd love a plate of those biscuits and gravy and a side of sausage," Cas found himself smiling at the thought of dessert before a meal. There was that saying, "Life is uncertain, eat dessert first!" that he'd found painted on a plaque for Gabriel as a gag gift one Christmas, but he'd never seen anyone other than his brother take that phrase to heart. That thought, and not the deep, flirtatious voice who made the order, caused him to turn around and put a face to the absurd request. 

Castiel found himself looking at the profile of none other than Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, the reason he was in Sparks. Dean Winchester the brother of his brother's love. Dean Winchester who was grinning around the straw that was dangerously poised on his tongue. If sex had an advertisement, it would be this scene. The waitress was blushing, Dean was leering, and the whole place was rife with sexual tension. Castiel figured that most of it was coming from him, but that was besides the point. 

Castiel had felt a stabbing of inquiry when he looked at the ID of Dean Winchester. The name. He loved to have it repeat itself in his mind, but he wasn't prepared for seeing the man in the flesh. Gabriel had warned Castiel that the brothers were born from the womb of the woman who must have invented gorgeous, but that really didn't do justice to the man in front of him. He looked like of of Michaelangelo's sculptures, DiVinci's paintings, perfection. 

He adjusted his trench coat and tried to loosen his blue tie to allow for both proper blood flow and oxygen to reach his brain. It should have helped more than it did, and Castiel allowed his arms to fall to his side in defeat. He looked in the case at the pie Dean had ordered, and wondered if it was going to be as good as Dean hoped. When he turned to look back at Dean, to ask himself more questions of this man, Dean was looking right at him. 

Castiel blushed. 

Dean stared. 

Both men were frozen in time loop that had caught them, making eye contact, and wondering how to breathe. 

"So, you want a place at the counter or a booth, darlin'? We've got a few spots for you to choose from," the same waitress drawled, tapping her blue Bic pen at the side of her jaw, while she looked down at the grease pen smudges left behind by the last table that was erased. 

"Oh, there you are, Cas. I was wondering when you'd get here," Castiel heard from his left side. He turned to see Dean Winchester standing right beside him, curling his arm around Castiel's shoulder. "I got us a booth. Come on and slide in here with me."

Castiel was in shock. He moved with Dean and found himself across a table, sitting on a red naugahyde bench seat, from Dean Winchester, with a grin on his face like he was a cat who ate the neighbor's bird. 

"So why don't you tell me, Castiel, how you came to be in Sparks, Nevada? Coincidence? Site seeing? Annoying brother who cant' keep his fucking nose outta my business?" Dean knew his name. He knew his face. Castiel had forgotten his own name and could not figure out how to make sound come out of his mouth. It confused him. This was a first for him. He had never been rendered speechless from a line of questioning prior to this moment. We was a defense attorney who thought on his feet, for the love of Pete! 

Dean's grin didn't falter, but he did wrap those pink lips, the pale pink perfect lips, around the straw and held them there while that lucky soda found its path into his mouth. Castiel was enraptured by that mouth. 

"I figured you for more of a talker, being a lawyer and all. Being Gabriel's brother, though, you probably never get a word in edge-wise with him. He is a talker."

"I learned to wait for the opportunities as they present themselves," Castiel finally got out of his mouth. "I was planning on finding you, Dean, but not this quickly."

Dean nodded, and leaned forward. His movement and words were cut short by the appearance of his slice of pie and a cup of coffee.

"And for you?" All the perk was in the voice, but no expression in the bleach blonde, who had clearly been a smoker since her teen years. This wasn't her idea of the perfect happy ending, but she'd made peace with her position. "Anything?"

"Yes," Castiel croaked out, "I'll have what he's having, staring with the pie and coffee, please."

Ada, according to the tag, smirked and walked away. Castiel thought that she'd have a story to tell later on, how two men ordered the same meal, beginning with pie, for breakfast. 

"I'm not sure how you found me, but you need to leave. This isn't the place for someone who doesn't know his was around the biz. You may defend scum bags, but I'm sure you haven't had to cuff one of them, or drag them out of their meth-infested trailer in the back forty. Did you think about that when Gabe sent you to find me, or were you just hoping to slide me into the front seat of your caddie and sail back home with no resistance?"

"Dean. I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to help," Castiel kept eye contact with the greenest eyes he'd ever seen in his life. They were pools of emerald surrounded by freckles, little angel kisses, proof of this man's grace. "Gabriel asked me to find where you were, but he didn't know I was going to do the legwork myself."

"Why did you?" Dean squared his shoulders, the defensive hunch was watered down by the sincere question.

"First of all, how did you know who I was? I only researched you yesterday before I left," Castiel was peering through squinted eyes, trying to suss the answer out of Dean before he could offer the explanation. 

Dean quirked his lopsided grin to the left, "I looked you two up after Sam started dating Gabe. He brought that caffeine addict to our house, and I wanted to like him, but the protective older brother in my couldn't let it go, so I Googled him. Then you. I researched your practice and anything else I could find. It seemed like you were on the up and up."

Satisfied, Castiel leaned back to accept the pie and coffee, digging in as if he hadn't eaten this week, the moan he let out upon the first taste of the flaky crust around the sweet and sour cherries was involuntary.

 

Dean knew that face. He knew it from the picture on the internet he'd kept in a bookmark on his laptop. He wasn't going to look at it after he'd done the initial research, but there was something striking about the dark haired man in the photo. The only one he had that was a clear image of him was black and white, and there were very few others of him that weren't obscured by Gabriel's blonde head, bouncing around the frame. Clearly Gabe was the figurehead of the firm.

When Dean saw the blue from Castiel's gaze from across the room, it stopped him mid thought, which was welcome. He needed a distraction from the file in his brief case. The file he couldn't open. It sat on top of the other file he had read, but hadn't returned. The day before had been filled with research, following leads, and the flat out refusal to open his dad's report. Today was the day. He was going to have a decent meal that wasn't from a bag, and open it up when he went back to the motel. The trail was ice cold here on Azazel. He hadn't been seen since he left the court house. 

He didn't want to think about it right now. He wanted to eat some pie, get full from gravy, and stare into Castiel's eyes like they held the secrets of the universe. The moan that just fell from Castiel's lips hit him in the gut, and made him wonder what it would sound like in his ear. He was in no shape to deny the state of his dick, so he shifted and tried to tear his eyes away from the man gobbling up the pie with gusto. It shouldn't have been arousing. He shouldn't have equated it to sex, and the way Cas would moan when he licked his neck, or his chest... It was too late. If Dean was one thing, it was a hedonist. If he wanted to eat, or drink, or screw, he did. Now he wanted Cas. 

"You need to slow down on that, there, Cas. The moaning isn't going to get you welcomed back to the joint," Dean spouted off.

"Before you pass judgement on my reactions, you need to try it for yourself," Castiel taunted him with a mouth full of food.

Dean had honestly forgotten the pie in front of him. There were more intoxicating views, like across the table. But he loved pie, so he was at the mercy of Castiel's request. Dean felt the tang and buttery, flakey goodness hit his tongue and fireworks went off in his mouth. 

"Now who's not going to be welcomed in this establishment," Castiel's teasing continued. 

Dean couldn't shake the want he felt, and he couldn't stop staring. 

"Dean, after this meal, I'd be happy to do the legwork required to find your father's killer. I have excellent skills in research, observation, tailing, and hand to hand combat. Though I admit, I am a little rusty on the combat end. I haven't sparred in over a year. However, I've been quite useful in several investigations outside our firm. I believe I could help you eliminate the threat that has arisen from Azazel's release, and allow you and your brother piece of mind." Castiel had finished his pie, but said a mouthful. 

"You know about him?!?! How do you know about him! I just found out! You been sitting on that one, have you?" Dean was shaken out of his lust, and moved right past all other emotions into pissed off. He leaned in and crowded into Castiel's space, leather jacket stretching against his back. 

"No. My brother Michael did that research at Gabriel's request to find a way to protect Sam. You as well. He wants to protect you, too. But no, Michael has connections that I couldn't dream of."

Dean looked at Cas like he had to be stupid not to flinch at the daggers he was throwing, but he sat there, looking into Dean's eyes, like he was reading the weather section of the paper. 

The fight flew out of him. He could use some help. Sam was back at home being all respectable, keeping up appearances. Dean was the grunt, on the ground, looking for the guy, on his own. His dad hadn't always worked alone. He always had some other bounty hunter in the area who had his back if he needed it. Once Dean was old enough, John always had back-up. Dean had never worked alone. He didn't realize how good it felt to have someone to talk to, just to keep himself from spinning in his head. . Having Cas sitting in front of him made him feel like he might be about ready to open the file. 

"I am here for you, Dean. However, if you want me to leave, I will conduct the investigation on my own. I promised my brother to help him and find you. I've found you, and kept that part of my promise. Sam wants to talk to you, as you can imagine. We can take your findings and go back home, create a plan of attack, and strike from there. A place of power, or we can continue here. I am at your service."

He meant it. Cas meant he was there to help. Dean had a lot of ideas of how he'd like to spend time with Cas, but the thought of someone being next to him when he opened the file, that might be the biggest thing Cas could do for him.

"You win, Cas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a Destiel writer, so don't get to used to these two! More Sam and Gabe coming up!


	16. Adorably Protective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe is not happy with Dean and Cas, nor is he willing to let Sam be unsupervised. Where will that level of protection get them right now?

Gabe was able to get Sam to eat ice cream. While Moose Tracks was a delicious flavor, it did't have a lot of staying power, so microwaved hot pockets at midnight had to hold them over. Sam had his time to wallow, and sleep off the hangover from too much adrenaline and too many tears. Sam may have decided to go to work, but Gabriel had hoped he would want to stay locked in the panic room upstairs. There was nothing for it. 

Gabe watched his love shower, sitting on the toilet seat, talking about movie quotes and video games. He made his love breakfast and forced him to eat at least two eggs and buttered toast before letting him have his car keys he was holding hostage. He made his love coffee in his favorite Star Trek "to go" mug, with only milk, just the way he discovered Sam liked it. Gabe watched Sam drive away after a three minute hug and a small make-out session that still gave him a shiver in his butterfly basket. Sam's car rounded the corner and Gabe realized he needed to get to work and see how far Cas got on finding Dean. No news wasn't great in this situation.

Alfie picked him up forty-five minutes later and walked him to the office entrance, as usual. That habit was purely Alife. He wanted to make sure that Gabe got to his destination, and that there were no last minute errands he would be required to do. He was a servant at heart, well it appeared so. Gabe loved that kid like a son, and he often brought him gifts, ordered extra meals, and gave a hell of a Christmas bonus. It could have been Alfie's attachment to a killer job, or he could have truly loved being at Gabe's beck and call. It might have been a little of both. 

When Gabe got to his office, Anna came in with his messages. They included one from Cas saying that he was on Dean's trail and should be back in a few days. It included the footnote that R. was a dick. That made Gabe's morning a little better. Cas wasn't going to be able to stomach Roman either. Good. Misery loves company. If Gabe was going to hate the guy, then he'd have to have someone understand his pain. 

Wait. A few days? Where the hell was he?

Pick up the phone, dumb ass.

"Gabriel? I wasn't expecting to hear from you this early?" Castiel's gravely voice sounded genuinely surprised. The clanking of dinnerware made Gabe wonder where in the hell he was.

So he asked, "Where in the hell are you?"

"I'm with Dean."

"With Dean? You found him? Well, drag his ass back here and help me fix Sam! He's a fucking mess!" Gabriel was glad his door was closed. Not everyone needed to hear this conversation, but he had no doubt anyone walking by was keen to the gist. 

Castiel didn't answer right away and there was a muffled sound of mastication, followed by the slurping of what he assumed was a mouthful of coffee.

"Did I disturb some breakfast brother dear, or are you going to finish your whole meal before answering my god damned question?" Rather than continue down the line of yelling, a heavy portion of sarcasm was in order.

"I heard you, Gabriel. I'm with Dean. We are going to work the case today. I will give you information once I have it. Why is Sam a mess?"

"I told him," Gabriel confessed with a short wine, "What was I supposed to do? I was wrecked with guilt and couldn't take the chance that he'd find out I was holding out on him. I can't lie to the big lug. Those hazel eyes are my kryptonite!"

There was the sound of a hand covering the microphone and the rustling of fabric in the general area. A new voice was on the line, "What did you do to my brother? Listen here you little shit, I will fucking END you. I mean it," Dean's lack of remorse was ringing very clear.

"I didn't hurt him, I just told him the truth. He has survivor's guilt and is better today. He decided to teach, but he may take tomorrow off. He looks like death warmed over. Neither of us slept well after he found out your dad was murdered. I could have handled that better," Gabe's voice dropped off as he spoke.

"You fucking did WHAT? Was that YOUR job Gabe? Really? You couldn't sit on that one for a DAY? Sam in my responsibility. You and your brother here don't have the first fucking clue what you are dealing with," Dean's voice was hushed but strained against the phone. He was attempting to scream at Gabe without disrupting the other patrons wherever they were eating. He was sure that was Cas's doing. No way Dean would give a shit.

Gabe stood up, placed his right hand on his desk for leverage, and went after Dean, "Listen here, you cocky S.O.B., you left. You don't get to tell me how to deal with that giant puppy who showed up at O'dark thirty in the morning when YOU weren't there. YOU took his phone. YOU who set an alarm and left a cryptic note. YOU who had him spooked enough to check into a motel if I didn't invite him to stay with me. So don't get on your horse with me Winchester. You may kick my ass. You'll win. I'll give you that, but make no mistake who set this ball rolling. Don't fuck with me on this. I'm keeping Sam together, and I will continue to do so. I'll protect him with my life, but I want some god damned answers!"A slamming of the fist punctuated Gabe's statement with enough volume that Anna walked through the door, brows furrowed.

Gabe waved her back out and pointing to his coffee cup to distract her. She rolled her eyes and walked out.

Castiel's voice was back on the line, "That was uncalled for Gabriel. Dean is distraught and has his hands full with finding Azazel. I will text you the pertinent information on your secure line, but don't call back. I will contact you. We have plenty to try to accomplish without you slowing us down!"

Gabriel hung up the phone and threw his stress ball across the room. "Shit!" Cas wasn't going to give an inch, he was stuck at work because now Cas was also gone, and he was all keyed up on coffee and frazzled nerves. He already fucking hated today.

 

Dean had let Castiel take the phone. His head hung between his elbows and his hands were holding the base of his skull. Hearing Gabe chastise him for leaving Sam meant that he really had left his brother defenseless. He'd never left Sam like that. He thought he could sneak off, get this under control and be back before Sam had to know what was really on the line. At this point, he didn't know if he wanted to open the file on his dad. He wanted to go back and make sure his brother was OK, just like he did when they were little and again when he packed them up and took them away from this life. He fucked up.

He heard Cas end the call, take a few more bites of his food and ask for the check. He wasn't sure where they'd end up once they slid out of the booth, but he knew he didn't want to leave. These past thirty minutes gave him a reprieve from the reality he was neck deep in, again. 

"You are too hard on yourself, but both you and Gabe love Sam very much. That is admirable that you feel so deeply for him. Sam is lucky to have two such devoted people on his side," Cas was trying to cheer him up, but the melancholy in Cas's voice stuck out to Dean. "I assume you have some intelligence to share with me if we are to make a go at finding this man?"

"Yea," Dean barked out, pushing his hands back over his head and pushing himself out of the booth. "But we're takin' my car. I'm not riding in that gold piece of crap."

"You mock what you don't understand. It is a classic."

"No, Baby is a classic. That is a relic from a crime against cars. We regroup, you help me get through this file," he pat the brief case, "Then we are back on the case."

 

Sam got through his day on pure instinct. The kids in first period took the cue from the haggard look on his face, and his lack of jovial greetings, to sit down and shut up. They silently took notes on the topics he presented or wrote in a sort of fear that induced silence from the whole lot. If someone started to pipe up, one of the others would kick their chair or shake their heads, protecting their dear Mr. Winchester from unsolicited conversation. The warning shot from that class to the rest of his classes, and his day was filled with concerned but quiet faces. 

The whispers at lunch was that he'd been dumped by his new boyfriend and that Becky would stir-fry anyone who messed with him that day. The man should be given time to mourn without having to deal with teenagers and their problems for one day. 

By the time Sam hit lunch, he'd accumulated zero texts from Gabriel. That was unusual, so Sam sent one of his own. 

WHAT? NO TEXT-BASED HARASSMENT TODAY?

WAS JUST GIVING YOU SOME QUIET SAM. HOW'S THE DAY GOING?

ODD. EVERY CLASS LOOKS LIKE THEY WERE REPLACED BY SILENT STEPFORD CHILDREN. NOT GONNA COMPLAIN THOUGH.

Sam's chest inflated and he exhaled some of the tension he'd been holding. His ability to trust was bruised and battered. Not hearing from Gabe had given him some tension he was happy to be rid of.

THERE'S SOMETHING TO CELEBRATE.

ITS CREEPY. CAN'T WAIT FOR TODAY TO BE DONE SO I CAN GO HOME. ANY NEWS?

SOME. CAS FOUND DEAN. 

WHERE?!?!?! 

Sam couldn't believe that Dean let himself be tracked. It probably didn't occur to him that he would have Cas on his trail. That must have come out of no where.

HE'S FINE. WILL TELL YOU LATER. WORKING AS A TEAM.

TEAM? DEAN DOESN'T DO TEAM.

WELL, HE DOES NOW.

Sam was wondering if that had anything to do with the fact that Cas wasn't going to give him the option. There was a reason they had such a good reputation at their firm. Gabe was brilliant in the court room, and Cas was an unnerving negotiator. Gabe bragged nonstop about Cas. If he was that kind of Yoda in law, he could probably take on Dean without too much emotional scarring. After the side-jobs that Cas did, which he found out about last night, he thought that Dean could do worse.

Sam couldn't believe that Cas was a P.I., but Gabe said it was true. Cas didn't have relationships or hobbies. He liked to keep his brain moving. Made sense. Well, he'd see how things went. Hopefully, both of them made it back in one piece. 

NAME DINNER AND MOVIE. I'LL BRING HOME.

The tardy bell rang, so Sam had to get back for his last two periods. He was trying to think of one of his feel good movies, but was coming up blank. 

IDK, SPACEBALLS AND SPAGHETTI? 

DONE AND DONE. <3

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of grading, teaching silent children, and the dreaded staff meeting. Sam nodded to the new grounds keeper, who looked to be packing, along with the new crossing guard who also had the suspicious bulge in the back of his pants. These were the extras Gabe had put in place. He was wondering if there were more of them as a black car pulled out behind him at the perfect distance to follow. He took quite a few random turns, until he was sure he was being followed before he called Gabe.

"Sam! Are you OK?" Gabe was moving at a rapid pace, Sam could tell my the sound of that expensive suit moving with him, "I thought I'd see you at home."

"Is there supposed to be a black car following me?"

"Yes. You are under surveillance. Michael's doing. He is training a new crew while he does me this little favor," Gabriel's breath coming out in huffs, but the noise had stopped. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"You? I'm driving them all over the city, trying to lose the tail! A heads up, Gabe. A heads up," Sam emphasized. 

Turning back towards Gabe's house, Sam let the tail catch up with him. Sure enough, no plates. It wasn't a stolen car; it was unmarked. He waved in his rear view mirror to the sun-glassed driver. He was sure they weren't smiling at being made.

"Fine, Gabe. I'll let you off the hook. I guess I'll head home and grade papers until you get there."

"Don't sound so excited about it! Dean will call soon, and we'll have something to go one. Just go straight there, will you? I've got 2 more hours and I'm all yours."

Sam thought that Gabe had to be his silver lining. Once the shock wore off from the bomb Gabe dropped, Sam started to put the pieces together. The whole story of John drinking himself to death was always shaky, but they had to believe it because that was what they were told. The murder made more sense. There was nothing he could do if he didn't know where Dean was. 

That and he felt like a huge shit head for grabbing Gabe. He didn't even realize he was doing it. He checked while Gabe was sleeping and there were finger tip bruises around his biceps. Sam had hurt him. He wasn't sure how to make that up, no matter how many times Gabe told him it was nothing. He needed to try.

"All mine, and an evening to ourselves. Could be worse," he was breathy from the rush of possible danger, and felt like he should run off the high before spending the night making Gabe feel nothing but good. 

"I can live with it," Gabe agreed. The hint of caution was barely detectable, but Sam did. He knew he'd be on lockdown unless he had an overwhelming case to get Gabe naked. Sam needed this. He needed Gabe. His whole life was up in the air, and feeling Gabe pressed against him was at the top of the list of things that made him feel better. 

Even if tomorrow all hell broke loose, they could still have one night for them. Couldn't they?


	17. What's With the Adorable Second Face?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam went for a run, feeling safe in the knowledge that he was under the watchful eye of Gabe's people. What was Alfie doing at Gabe's apartment? What were Dean and Cas going to find in that file?

Sam laced up his blue and white Nikes and headed out the door. The run was exactly what he needed. Sam went out the door and back through the parking lot. He headed up the main drag and started going in and out of the neighborhoods, looking at the differences in the architecture, noting which home had "Joneses" living there and which ones had working families with no time or extra cash. It was a game he had played since he was a kid, where he would guess who lived in certain houses. The ones that stuck out to him in one way or the other became the object of the game. It gave him something else to do than target practice. 

Today Sam let the miles he was pounding out work his legs and allow his brain to clear out. He had the wonder, where was this going to end? Even if they found this guy, they couldn't actually kill him. It had been something he wanted to do in the heat of the moment, and really, even now it sounded an option he would choose if he could, but he just found Gabriel. Gabriel was alive and amazing. He didn't want to end up in prison over some revenge that was years old. Not now. He had created something he wanted to protect. If he was still on the road, he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. Now he was hoping there was another way.

Sam came around the corner to Gabe's house just as Gabe's driver was pulling out of the parking lot. He hadn't seen Gabe get out of the car, so he assumed he'd be inside. He bounded the steps, two at a time, and used the key he had been gifted, to open the door. It seemed like he was in a parallel universe to be opening the door to a place that he didn't share with Dean. It was something he had wondered if it would ever happen. It was temporary, while all of this was up in the air. But what if it wasn't?

No Gabe. 

Hmmmmm. That was strange. He wondered if Gabe had forgotten something and Alfie was just grabbing it? He'd have to call Gabe, but he didn't want him to worry like he had only about an hour ago. It was too soon to give the man a second, non-sex related, heart attack of the day. He'd hop in the shower and get cleaned up, so his plan of distracting Gabe would be successful. In his current state, he was not going to attract anyone.

 

Gabriel was just planning on leaving when he ran into Michael. Correction, Michael marched down the hall, grabbed Gabe's arm, and drug him back into the office.

"Well, hello brother! Wanna give a cordial greeting before you rough house a guy?" Gabe was at the end of his ability to put up with this day. Michael showing up put him on warning, but he didn't need the man-handling, thank you very much!

"You need to clear adding agents to the team before adding them, Gabriel. I will not put my operatives in danger because you want to control the investigation. We were tailing your boyfriend who went out for a jog. Cute, by the way. Our number one vehicle, the engine cut out only a quarter mile down the road. We had to hustle to get our number two out in front and lost him for five minutes! We saw another car following him. I ran the plates, and it was your car. The driver used evasive maneuvers to get away, but not without first surprising my new guy into running into a parked car. We didn't catch up with Sam until he had gotten back into the house. The picture that we took of the driver, we ran through our facial recognition bank, and came up with Alfred Cummings. He is wanted in England, France, and Portugal on charges of kidnapping and fraud."

Gabe's heart stopped. Alfie? NO! Sam!! "I've gotta call Sam!"

"Tell me you didn't know about this, Gabriel," Michael was still talking, but Gabriel had his hand over his ear and was straining to listening to the never-ending ringing on the other end. 

He turned to Michael, "Please tell me someone is watching him?" Gabriel pleaded and breathed out when Michael nodded. "Well, did he make it back home? Why isn't he answering?"

Michael spoke into his wrist and got some kind of response, "I have been informed that he was running, so he is probably in the shower. Unless there is a reason to go into the apartment, there isn't much they can tell from outside."

"Tell them to go in for fuck's sake!" Gabe had given up standing in his office, and was heading out the door, "He still hasn't answered. I've tried three times, and it keeps going to voice mail. Fuck it. You're driving me there, now. Don't try following any traffic laws on my account!"

When the walked out the front doors, Gabe saw that Michael parked where he pleased, which was right up on the sidewalk. They climbed in and the reality sank into Gabe. He started babbling in between the attempts at calling Sam.

"Alfie. I can't believe it. He is a sweet kid and works so hard. Is there anyway he was framed? I mean, come on! He is my right hand. How in the hell did he get caught up in something like this?"

Michael didn't take his eyes off the road, and considering he was screaming down the road, dangerously over 70 mph, it was a good thing he was attentive. The weaving in and out of traffic would concern Gabe if he wasn't headed towards Sam.

"Gabriel, I have CCTV capturing him at the scene as well as the description of the victims. To date, none of the victims died, but all of their families paid. Wondering if he was running a long con on you and was waiting for the right time to nab you." It was all so matter of fact, the way Michael laid it out. It just couldn't be.

The door was open when they arrived, and Gabe couldn't see in. He jumped out of the car as Michael got close and sprinted up the steps. If anything had happened to Sam, he'd never forgive himself.

 

Dean had unlocked the motel room door with little pomp and circumstance. He flung the keys on the table and flopped on the king-sized bed. After cocking his knee and repositioning facing the foot of the bed, he opened the brief case. The two files were still right there. Azazel's was on top and his dad's was on the bottom.

"Would you like me to look at them while you do something else? Shower? Watch TV? Sleep? I don't mind."

"You know what? Yea. Tell me what you see. All I saw in Azazel's file was his rap sheet and an arraignment date. He's been in the wind for two months. Al has had no luck finding him. He was conveniently not at his shop yesterday when I showed up, so the phone call was all I got. He was a memory from the time he left the court house."

Cas's nod was oddly reassuring.

"I can't seem to look at dad's file. I want to see if what he said was even true. But you know, I just can't open it. If it is true, then its my fault. If it isn't true, I get to see how my dad looked after drinking himself to death. I don't want Sammy to see. Fuck, I don't know what I want to do."

"I'll look. I can do that. Then I'll just tell you what it says," Cas replied with the most obvious answer, but Dean wasn't in the business of trusting dudes he just met, let alone ones that came to check up on him. To make sure he was doing his job. Brothers of the guy who is taking care of Sam when he didn't. 

Dean handed Cas the file. Cas took it to the table with one chair, that was in the corner of the room. Dean didn't budge. Cas opened the file and let out a gasp. His hand went to his mouth and Dean thought he was going to puke. Either way, his dad looked bad. In a few moments, he'd find out what the truth was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the climax! I'm thinking about four more chapters. Maybe five. Thanks to everyone who is bearing with me! I have a plan in motion, and I'm letting it brew a bit. Any feedback is good feedback! I can't believe this is where I am after about a month of writing. It feels great to get all this out of me, and out to you!


	18. Red Isn't an Adorable Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe walked in to find Sam at gun point, all while Cas read aloud the coroner's report on John Winchester.

Cas cleared his throat, "Your father's blood alcohol level .21 which is very near toxic. He was clearly incapacitated when he was attacked."

Dean leaned he forearms on his thighs. He nodded and hung his head. The weight of the world was resting on his shoulders, Sam's weight. He wanted Cas to keep reading.

"There were several lacerations on his hands which indicates that he fought back. There was little bruising around the broken bones, which meant he died shortly after the break. There was a ligature mark around his neck suggesting strangulation, but his crushed windpipe confirms it."

Dean stood up and then doubled over the trash can.

"I'm so sorry Dean. I wouldn't recommend you looking at the photos. My recount was more than enough. The only evidence were a few smudged fingerprints and the rope that matched the marks. The couldn't find any other evidence. No eye witnesses or tire tracks. Nothing," Cas was sitting on the floor near where Dean had collapsed. 

Dean waited for the vomit to come, for his molten insides to come pouring out. It didn't. He just felt like his veins were acid. 

This was his fault. 

He took Sam and left. He remembered the fight so vividly.

He had just missed getting shot in the head when they wrangled Steven Bandini to the ground, missing that he had a .22 in his boot. If Dean hadn't lunged after the knife he'd seen in his belt, he would have been dead. That was when his life, all of Sam's life, flashed before his eyes. No fucking way was his little brother going to do this job for real. 

Sam was already doing research and legwork. He'd had dealt with cons after the fact and the few that had made the jump on them. He was already a crack shot and could almost take Dean in hand-to-hand when they practiced. His dad was already asking Dean when Sammy would be ready.

That night, Dean told John that Sammy would never be ready. They were leaving and never coming back. Surprisingly John had let him go. Dean made a big deal about packing them up and getting them out quickly, but thinking back, John didn't try to stop him. 

He left his dad defenseless. Fuck.

"Whatever you are doing to yourself, Dean, stop. You are not to blame here. Azazel might not be either. We don't know. There isn't any evidence linking them together but gossip and the word of that Bail Bondsman. I think the issue here is there is no lead. Not one. I'm wondering if there is anything here at all, or if you were sent on a wild goose chase."

Dean's head snapped up. Al wasn't there when he went by. He had to know Dean would check things out. What if it was all to get Sam alone?

"We're leaving. Now," He jumped up and grabbed all his belongings in haste and left the key on the counter. They were back in the Impala before Cas could register that he was leaving his own car in Sparks. They hit I-80 and started weaving in and out of traffic, down the mountain. 

 

Gabe tried to push his way past the men with guns, who were pointing them at Sam. Sam was in a purple T-shirt, a towel, and had jeans in his hand, but it was the blood smeared all over his face and arms that grabbed his attention right away.

"Sam! Sam! Are you OK?" Gabe yelled!

Sam continued to hold his hands out beside him, "Gabe, are these guys good or bad?" 

Michael walked in and barked out the order, "Fingers off your triggers. Report."

Blonde clone number one responded, "Sir, we knocked and didn't hear an answer. Based on your instructions we entered the dwelling to find Mr. Winchester covered in blood. We were securing the scene as you arrived, keeping him at bay until we could conclusively prove where the blood came from."

Clone numbers 2-5 were still pointing guns at Sam, and Gabe had no way to stop them. He looked at Sam, trying to catch his eye, but Sam's face was pointed down to the ground, as he hunched, trying to look smaller. There was no movement. He was going for, "don't shoot me, see I can't harm you" but the streaks of blood staining his skin through off a "I just ate your family, and you're next vibe." Gabe was trying to push the terror down, warring with the Sam he knows and the Sam that was right there. How well did he know him?

Clone number 6 walked out of the library with the bag Gabriel hid for Sam when he arrived: guns, zip ties, cuffs, knives, all shining in the overhead track lighting. 

"Well, well, Mr. Winchester. Quite the bag of goodies you brought with you to my brother's house. Care to explain?" Michael's confident tone was cool. His motions were smooth.

"He showed those to me when he came. I'm the one that put them in the library. He didn't even know where they were!" Gabriel rushed to defend Sam. Sam closed his eyes and Gabe could see the muscle in his jaw clenching. "Look! None of it has any blood on it. Do you see any...anywhere? No. Put the fucking guns down!"

No one moved. Michael kept his laser gaze on Sam. Poor kid had to feel it cutting into his skin by now. Gabe was not going to let this continue. He had to put an end to it, but Michael spoke first.

"Pass the jeans to me and stay still," His words were not giving a request and Sam didn't argue. Sam slowly extended his arm and dropped the pants into Michael's awaiting hand. Sam's hand was as red as if he had dipped it in paint.

Michael rubbed his fingers in the jeans and then dabbed his free hand against the fabric. His hand came back red.

"Go get the bag that holds his clothes from the bathroom," Clone number 6 jumped into action and returned so fast, Gabe didn't notice any time passing. It was either that or he lapsed out of consciousness. 

He was being restrained. He realized it now. The reason he hadn't made it any further than that spot was the arms that hand him held in place like a stockade. He began to struggle against the Clone that held him. He gave up keeping track of numbering them. They all looked like fresh-faced, nondescript, pretty-boys. He was telling the Terminator-sized arms to "fuck off" and "let the fuck go" under his breath, but the wriggling and direction made no change in his situation.

"I have a feeling you didn't do this to yourself, Sam. Weapons down," And with that simple order, all the guns were re-holstered. Michael turned to Gabe and motioned. He was released from his human-prison.

"Look at this," Michael pointed. All the clothes in the bag were covered in blood. "I have a feeling I know who did this."

"Alfie," The three of them said together, but Michael and Gabe looked at Sam with surprise.

"I saw him driving away, but thought that he was just picking something up for Gabe. That coincidence could be the only explanation," Sam rationalized. It was disturbing hearing his thoughts on the matter, when he was covered in blood like a maniac killer.

"There is more to it than that, but we will search the area while you two get ready to leave. This is no longer a secure location. I'm not leaving you here. This officially became something I'm not dropping 'till it's done," he bit the words out as he walked out the door. His minions followed him, scattering to secure the extraction. 

"Sam, come here," Gabe leaned in and put his arms out to comfort him and Sam flinched. 

"No," Sam turned around and walked back into the bathroom. Sam's reaction to his own reflection was chilling. Sam didn't have any emotions, he only braced himself against the sink and uttered, "How could you even look at me like this? I look like I butchered an entire family. I look I'm a satan worshiper on his way home from a ritual sacrifice! How can you want to even touch me?" He recoiled from himself, "I don't have anything to put on but therunning clothes there on the floor. I already put my work clothes in the bag, on the dirty side, to wash."

Gabriel inched closer, not trying to spook the wounded animal in front of him. Sam had blow after blow hit him over the past few days, and this was a horror show. Gabe was in his full Armani war-suit. The dry-cleaning bill for being in the same room with the blood was going to be staggering, yet he didn't hesitate to get close the gap to get to Sam. 

"It's you. That's why I'm not afraid, Sam. It's you. There is no way that this was something you did."

"That's funny because you don't really know me, now do you?" Sam's retort was cold, as cold as the look he gave Gabe when their eyes met. "I mean, for all you know, this is my Saturday night, right? Butchering up men that get close to me? That's the funny part of all this, is that you don't know me."

Gabe was on the retreat for a handful of seconds before shaking those words off and countering with, "Bullshit."

"It's true. You don't. We haven't spent more than a few days together, two dates,"

"Three!"

"Fine, three. Then I was on your doorstep, bags of clothes and weapons in hand. Now I'm covered in blood in your apartment. Really, is this something you want? I can't possibly be someone you want. You need to run in the other direction, Gabe. This is only getting worse."

"Stop starting a fight with me, Winchester. You can't get away with it. You're picking a fight so I'll get mad a leave. Then you get to be happy knowing I'm 'safer' without you or some other pile of shit you have in your back pocket! It doesn't work if the other person knows your game," Gabe was close enough to touch him, but he wasn't going to yet. This was a long con. He had to distract him and push through to get to the Sam on the other side of the pain. 

"I'm not lying to you, LOOK at me. Just look! Whatever is coming is going to be worse than this!"

"Maybe that is what they want us to think! Did you consider that? Alfie is a messed up kid. Maybe he just wanted to scare you away from me because he was jealous or something. Maybe he is working for one of the clients I couldn't get 'off' so I am miserable when the first person I've loved in years walks away. Maybe it was a prank gone horribly wrong. All I know is that we leave this room together, go where ever Michael wants to take us, and he gets to the bottom of it."

"Do, DO, Do, Do!" Gabe grabs his cell from his pocket without breaking eye contact, "Hello."

"What do you mean your on your way back? What happened?"

Gabriel puts the phone on speaker, "considered that the whole thing my be a ploy to get Dean out of the area. We are already making very good time and past Truckee. We will be back in town in a few hours. We are concerned that you two are walking into a trap that we hadn't anticipated."

"I've got news. Too late. We are standing in my bathroom and Sam is covered in blood."

"WHAT! Sammy, can you hear me?" Dean's frantic voice cut through the brothers, "Are you hit?"

"Dean! Look, Dean I'm OK. Some dickhead poured blood in my bag while I was taking a run. I didn't notice my clothes were covered when I was changing, it was steamy and I thought I just hadn't dried off all the way. I'm fine."

"Jesus, Sammy. I'm done with the almost-heart-attacks this week."

"Sorry Dean," Gabe regretted opening his mouth, but it seemed to be the theme for the week. Add foot, then try to pry it out. "I should have lead with the fact that we are fine. Michael is relocating us. Talk to Cas about it. Cas, call Michael and get in touch with where he's stowing us. I've got to get Sam cleaned up and we have to leave before Michael tries to drag him out nude."

"Dean. I'm fine. Come back and we'll deal with this," Sam pulled the last ounce bravery out for his brother, just like they did for each other every time the other one needed a brave face. "Just come back."

"On our way Sammy," Dean tried to convey some brotherly support, but Cas cut the phone off speaker.

"Dean is driving too fast, so I'll get him to slow down if possible. Have Michael call me. I don't have his current number. I assume he will destroy your phone in a matter of minutes. Take care of Sam."

"Take care of you, Cassie. I'll talk to you soon."

Gabe tapped the screen and cut off their conversation to look at Sam again. He had the boost he needed to put on the brave face for Dean, and this was Gabe's chance to capitalize on that momentum. "Come on Sam. Let's get through a quick shower. No shit. Michael doesn't wait for anyone. He'll drag us both out in a towel if it fits his time frame."

Gabe had his hand on Sam's shoulder, and then rubbed his right thumb across the blood smears on Sam's cheek, "Let's clean you off, babe."

Sam nodded and pulled the shirt over his head, revealing his torso was streaked in varying shades of red, a chill went through Gabe. This could be real. He could be bleeding to death. Sam could be dead. He could lose him. 

Gabe pressed forward and grabbed around Sam's waist, burrowing his head into the divot his clavicle made near his shoulder. 

"Gabe! No!" Sam yelled trying to push him away, "You'll get covered in this shit!" 

That was when Sam felt the shaking. Gabe was shaking and clinging to him. He hadn't thought this would have scared Gabe. Gabe who is so strong and rational. Gabe who has put Sam's anxiety and worries to rest with an uncanny ease. The man he had grown to love in such a short period of time was crying in his arms, now, covered in the same blood he was. 

Sam knew he had to fix it. His arms wrapped around Gabe, and for the first time, Gabe felt small to Sam. It was obvious to anyone looking that Gabe was almost a foot shorter, and if things are to scale...narrower. Slighter. But to Sam, Gabe was huge. Personality, confidence, power, his ability to give love... Gabe was larger than his physical mass. It was just today when he noticed he fit perfectly in his arms.

Sam started murmuring, "It's OK, Gabe. I'm OK, baby. I've gotcha. Come here," all while holding him closely, dearly to his body.

"I thought I lost you, Sam. I thought you were going to be lying on the floor when I walked in. Seeing you covered in blood scared me. I had a split second of doubt, but then I knew I had to get to you. But you could have been dead. That would have been my fault. Alfie is my employee. He could have hurt you,"Gabe rambled into Sam's skin. 

"Come on. A shower will do us both good. Then we'll go wherever Michael takes us, crawl into bed, eat junk food and refuse to leave. I'll be there the whole time. Let me get you cleaned up, tiger. Come on." Sam guided them towards the shower and had started the water. It took a moment for the thought to process in Gabe' mind, but the grip eased and Sam was able to get his jacket, then tie off. They were ruined. 

The knock at the door came, "You have five minutes Gabriel. I'm serious. We needed to move five minutes ago. Don't make me wait."

"You heard him Novak. Come on. Rinse, soap, rinse, get out. You've got a robe here. I'll put on my grubbies. Good, let's get you out of those clothes."

Gabe followed whatever Sam said. He was hungry for the feel of pressure and touch, as long as it was Sam's. That meant Sam was alive, and they still had time. Time together. 

"You need to kick off those shoes. Almost there," And Gabe was back in Sam's arms, feeling the water cover him. He was instantly both very safe and warm. "You had me, now I've got you."

Sam kissed the top of his blonde head, and started rubbing their skin, watching the blood swirl down the drain. It helped, seeing it go. It helped clear his mind of the fear he had of losing Gabe, of being shot by the Spooks in the living room, and of his dad's killer. He felt the adrenaline seep into his cells like he was trained for it to do. Action made all the difference. He had an objective: get them out of the shower and into the car. Sam could do that, and he could keep Gabe safe. Dean would be here soon. Then they figure it all out together. They had to.


	19. Adorable Little Safe House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has had enough of this situation and the danger his brother faces. He'll have to get involved beyond surveillance. He puts the boys up at a Safe House to delve further into the matter while Sam and Gabe play amateur detective.

Gabe was still holding on to Sam for dear life. They made it through the shower, dressed, were hustled into a black SUV, and then off to the "safe house" which was really a little cottage about 35 minutes away from Gabe's, though it took them over an hour to drive there. He lost track of the number of times they turned right or left. He stopped caring about the long stretches of driving straight they had, only to turn around suddenly, and zip-zag back the way they came. The only thing that kept him grounded was the death grip Sam had around him. 

The shaking stopped before they left the house. The vision of Sam covered in blood popped back into his mind every time he closed his eyes, and the flinch he had reacting to it made Sam wrap his arms around him tighter in the backseat. 

When Michael, the agent and the boys drove up to the house, they pulled into the garage on the side of the house, waited for the garage door to close, and then were ushered inside behind the men who cleared it. The doors were reinforced with steel. The windows were bullet proof. In the grass, there were subterranean spikes that could be deployed if someone was coming up to the house. It wasn't just another location for them to be; it was a true "safe house" as Michael informed them.

"I don't spend time in this town in just any dwelling. I have a few of these houses dotted around the country. Two of them are here because this is where you and Cas still live. In my line of work, you can't be too careful," Michael was checking in special places around the house to make sure certain things were there. Neither of the men had any idea what was happening.

"Shit. I have to call in a sub for tomorrow," Sam suddenly remembered.

"Done. Chambers grabbed your brief case and is filling in for you. I've already cleared it with your principal."

Sam nodded and rubbed Gabe's shoulder. 

Michael looked at the pair and ordered, "Don't leave the fucking house, OK? There is food, cable, and books. I'm looking out for Cas and your brother, but they aren't coming here. I'll put them somewhere else." He raised his hand, "I know you both want to see them, but no. I'm not drawing attention to this place and that's final."

Gabe was nestled into Sam's side, leeching the warmth from him, completely disregarding the stink from his run. He didn't care. The more data that he took in that proved Sam was fine was all he wanted. 

"There aren't any clothes here, are there?" Sam was itching to feel clean, "I'm not picky."

Michael nodded, "Gym clothes in the closet should fit you. Gabe you can find something in there for yourself if that doesn't work for you," Michael pointed to the robe Gabe was wearing. He was lucky to grab that when they were rushed out of the apartment. 

"Thanks," Gabe was sincere, but in no shape for a soliloquy. 

"I'll call tomorrow. No one is going to come here. If someone does, call this number. None of the men watching you will come to the door. They have their orders. If they do, shoot first," Michael handed Sam his bag, the one with all his weapons, "Protect my brother."

"Done."

"Don't fucking leave the house."

Then Michael left. They were alone. It was dead silent and Gabe curled around Sam, digging his face in his chest, "Tell me this is all a bad dream,"

"I wish it was," Sam squeezed and then loosened his grip, wiping his hand through his hair, "Do you mind if I get changed?"

Gabe shook his head and let go. He immediately regretted his decision. He felt cold, ungrounded, and confused. How in the hell did this happen? He was the one controlling the situation, and then Alfie. That was it. Gabe knew he was to blame for Alfie. He was the one who brought the trouble to Sam. There was trouble, and he added more. It seemed to be a speciality of his. Usually, his brand of destruction was relegated to the court room, and it left him with a "Not Guilty" verdict. Fucking up someone's life outside the court room held little pleasure.

Sam returned in a blue t-shirt and black cotton shorts. His brown hair just touched his shoulders and the flecks of green in his hazels eyes glowed. His mouth was open, like he was going to say something, but then cemented his feet to the ground and crossed his arms. 

"We have to talk," Sam started and quickly added with a tone of remorse, "I am so sorry for all of this."

"That's not where I thought you were going with that lead in, Samsquatch," Gabe breathed out the muscle spasm he felt in his chest, "I thought you were walking."

Sam nodded, "See, that's what I mean. We are falling hard and fast, but I'm not sure how much of this is from the situation," Sam's arms were out to punctuate the point he was making, then he gestured to Gabe, "I want you to know that when I say that, its because I have something I want to run by you. I want you to know me; know I'm not a killer. That look I saw in your eye when you weren't sure, gutted me."

"I never..."

"Yes you did. Your face fell, and you thought that maybe, just maybe, I'd butchered someone in your house."

Gabe looked down at his palms. He rubbed a thumb across the right one, wondering where his future was heading.

Sam didn't budge, "I don't blame you for that. When I realized it had to be Alfie, I blamed you for about fifteen seconds before I shook that off and realized you didn't send him. It's normal. We all have suspicions of other people. The thing is that we... really don't know enough about each other. We are in the middle of a puppy-love/amazing sex euphoria, and then all this. It makes none of it feel real. For me. I want it to feel real."

Gabe brushed a stray hair from his eye to behind his ear and met Sam's eyes. He wanted it to feel real too, but not this type of real. This was too real. The reality of it was crushing him. He didn't know what scared him more: losing Sam or finding out Sam was really not who he said he was. Why would Alfie target Sam in the first place?

"Sam. I have to ask. Do you know Alfie? Did you know if from before? Any connection with him? I gotta know. It seems so strange that all of a sudden he'd freak out and do something as 'Glen Close' as fill your bag with blood. I mean, who does that shit?"

"See, that's what I want you to ask," Sam held his hands together in front of him, "I want us to talk this out. No. I've never met him."

Gabe leaned on the kitchen counter he was standing next to, "You wanted me to ask you that?"

"Well, I wanted us to be honest. So much goes wrong when all those worries get kept in. Talking to you about my dad and Dean and all the things I've been packing around...man, it felt so good to let that go. But when Dean told me that he had been keeping things from me, things I should have known...I had all these things going in my head. We didn't talk, now...I mean it is all fucked up now. I might not be able to fix things with him, but I can with you."

Sam kept his distance, respecting the moat between them as something needed for the moment. The kid was learning. Honesty, hard hitting honesty, came from a place of strength, and sex got in the way of that. If Sam had touched him, he would have scaled that adonis and claimed that gorgeous body in the Novak name, leaving no room for chit-chat. It was dangerous how much Gabe wanted him, even in the amount of danger they were in, or maybe because of it. The screwed up part was that he didn't even know how much trouble they were really in. Fuck!

Gabe slammed his hand down on the counter, "I'm scared shitless, Sam! I am freaking out! It was one thing when I was throwing my weight around to look like the knight on a white horse, protecting new boyfriend from scary mystery man, but it is another thing when my most trusted employee turns out to be a psycho! I let him in my house. I led him to you. I...he could have...I mean...you could be dead if he hadn't just wanted to make a point!" He pointed to Sam and then pressed the heels of his hands against his forehead. 

"He is either jealous and trying to make me run or make you fear me. That was a message. Something that twisted only comes from a passionate emotion. I have read way to many books on FBI profiling of serial killers to not pull that motive out," Sam had a thumb out, like he was counting, his other hand was still lodged under his elbow. 

Gabe was rubbing his temples now, "I mean I guess he could have had a crush on me or something. I always treated him well, and he did an amazing job of attending to my needs. Not sexually, mind you. It never went there. But if he wanted it to, he was doing a good job making me trust him. I loved that kid like a son."

"How old is he? He wasn't your kid, was he?"

"Jesus, Sam. I'm not...wait. I'm forty, so he could...I mean it is possible. He's twenty-two. But no, I never knew his mother. He was born in England, well, so I thought. Not much of an accent, though. I just thought of him as a good kid. That was it."

"Forty, huh? Well, you're in luck. I'm over thirty. Nothing skeevy about us being together," Sam smiled the smallest smile he could produce, and then pushed the corners of his mouth back to neutral. He must have realized it wasn't the time for jokes. 

Gabe chuckled and replied, "Shit. We really have a lot to still find out, don't we? I had no idea how old you were. I could tell you weren't too young, but I honestly hadn't even thought about it," he wiped his hand back and forth on his mouth, almost grabbing his lips, absently wondering how much of a "dirty old man" he was becoming.

Sam was chewing on the thought about Alfie,"So we know he was young. He liked you. Enough to go the extra mile. That wasn't expected in his job description, so it showed he cared a little. He is probably jealous. All of this could be totally unrelated to the Azazel thing with my dad. I mean, that hasn't been anything. Nothing happened here. Dean and Cas are on their way, and they'll have more info, but today could be because he's in love with you," He was biting his thumb, trying to piece it all together. 

"Well if that's true, the kid needs some meds and a few visits from a shrink because that was more than TPing someone's house. What kind of blood was it? Where do you even get that much blood? I don't even want to know. My mind is spinning with the options. All of them gross. We gotta find that kid before he hurts someone, or himself," Gabe's face was contorted in the disgust at Alfie's actions, but also at how far he'd crossed the line. Alfie was a special person to him, and he was kicking himself for not smelling the crazy, like he normally would.

Sam leaned against the partial wall that separated the kitchen from the dining room, "But why now? I mean, it all seems like a coincidence. We just started dating, Dean got the call, then I moved in, and then..." Sam's head snapped up, "I moved in. It was too fast. He freaked out. That could be the trigger."

Gabe walked closer, but didn't get too close. They were on to something, "But what about the driving? I didn't even think about it until now. What about the kidnapping and fraud charges? He was a criminal BEFORE I hired him, and none of my background checks found it. At all," Gabe's gestures were wild. He totally forgot that Alfie was some kind of...he didn't know what! Criminal? It just seemed so "not Alfie" that he was having a hard time putting it all together.

"Wait, go back. What?" Sam walked to meet Gabe and they were standing toe to toe, "He's wanted in England? Kidnapping?"

Gabe nodded, "Michael just told me on the way here. Alfie had cut them off when they were following you on your run. They had to use the number 2 car to catch up with you because he hit the other one and made it crash," Gabe's arms were moving as fast as his words.

Sam smiled again. He knew he should be focusing on the real danger here, but he couldn't resist. He reached up and gripped his chin, lightly between his thumb and forefinger,"You are so cute when you get excited. It's what made me check out out in the first place," Sam kissed him gently and looked back at a subdued Gabriel, "Continue."

"If you're going to distract me like that, then I won't be able to think! Oh wait!" Gabe pulled back, grabbing Sam's arms, "What if this is all very related? What if the phone call to Dean and the Alfie stuff IS related? What if there is a connection between Azazel and Alfie? Or that Alistair guy? What if that is the thing and it isn't jealousy? But what if he wanted to make it look like he was jealous instead of working for one of those guys?"

Sam stood up straight and looked past Gabe, "I think we're going to have to think faster. Someone is definitely walking up to the door, right now." Sam reached into the black bag and pulled out his .45, pushed Gabe behind him, and stalked toward the wall beside the door. Gabe was both turned on and terrified at the sight. He pulled his robe tighter around himself and held his breath. All he could do was wait to see what face was with the body he'd seen walk up the drive.


	20. Poor Adorable Alfie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was him outside, Alfie. Why did he want to hurt them? Who else was involved? When would it all end?

That place was innocuous enough, with the roses lining the front lawn, and the thick floral curtains. Alfie had a feeling it was a little more secure than that. His boss wasn't an idiot, but he had gotten involved with one family he should have avoided. Of all the people the adorably stupid Mr. Novak had started crushing on, it was the youngest Winchester. He'd heard stories of the Winchesters from his uncle over the years. All bravado, little care for their own safety. No possible way to corrupt their shocking sense of right within a field of wrongs in every shade of grey. 

It killed Alfie to see his boss, his face held a mask of terror, as he ran into that apartment. The conversation he overheard was telling. There were doubts. Not everyone believed that Sam wasn't a little guilty of something, but when they fingered Alfie, he knew he had screwed up. 

He was supposed to be seen getting in the way, then leave Sam with a bag full of blood, preferably on the clothes he changed into, with a whole lot of questions he couldn't answer. Gabe would kick him out and never speak to him again. That would save Gabriel from what was coming. 

"I never wanted this life," he thought, "I was born into it," as he sat in his brown Toyota, slightly around the corner from the black SUV watching the cottage. They could have been more conspicuous, but he was sure that to the normal passerby, it wasn't that much of a red flag. His mom died when he was fourteen, and he asked his uncle for help. The guy gave him a "How To Manual" for getting away with crimes. Except, Alfie got caught on tape. He fled Britain, and hooked up with his uncle in person. It was more than he'd bargained for. He was used to breaking the law, scaring people, and getting paid. He wasn't used to the constant violence and deep cons that were going on. Honestly, he was glad he hadn't tried to understand it all better. It made leaving so much easier. 

He was able to get out, but not without knowing that there was a favor owed. There was always a favor owed. "We're family," uncle would say. "You owe me your life, you little miserable cur, and you'll jump when I call if you know what's good for you."

So, Alife jumped. He wished he hadn't had to. This was the first time in his life where he felt someone believed in him. Mr. Novak appreciated Alfie and his quick thinking, his loyalty, and his presence. It was intoxicating. He was a little jealous of Sam spending time with him, but he knew he was never going to end up with Mr. Novak. He would have been proud to work for him forever, though. 

Now, that wasn't going to happen. 

Alfie walked straight up to the door of the cottage, and stood there. He waited for the men in the black SUV to come get him. If he was caught, then the security would decrease, and dear old uncle would get what he wanted. The Winchester boys. 

He didn't hear anything, but he felt the electricity shoot through his body. Involuntarily, he went down. The next thing he knew, he was in the back of the SUV. They weren't moving, but he was sure they were waiting for backup. Someone else to watch the house. Or, for someone to move them again. This was the end of his favor. He was only supposed to throw everyone off the scent of his uncle. That was it. Uncle would take care of the rest. 

 

Gabe was dialing Michael when Sam waved him off. Sam was peeking through the curtains, then his whole body went from the rigidity of a trained operative to the wrung out exhaustion of a marathon runner crossing the finish line. 

"They got him. They tazed Alfie. He's in the truck."

"Alfie! Aw, kid. What the hell were you thinking," Gabe moaned and rubbed his hands over his eyes, seeing stars for his effort. 

Sam was in front of him, eyeing the green and blue plaid robe covering most of himself, Sam reached down and pulled Gabe up.

"We have a few options, Gabe."

"I'm all ears," Gabe exhaled, struggling with himself not to fall into the solid sanctuary of Sam's chest. 

Sam hesitated before he brushed the hair out of Gabe's face, then cupping his cheek, "We could go see if this place has enough ingredients to make some dinner or we can go to bed. And that last offer is open to interpret anyway you want. Sleep, cuddling, sex...all three."

Gabe's resolve crumbled and he leaned into Sam, curling his arms against Sam's chest, so that Sam's arms completely surrounded him. "I guess this is good. I mean, great. I'm a fan of this."

Sam nodded, kissed the top of his head, and held tighter. "I'm not sure where this is going to end. It was too easy, them catching him like that. There is no way that was the end of it. Something bigger is coming."

"I know."

"Maybe we should strategize, or make some plans for what we are going to do."

"I know."

"Our brothers are still out there, looking for us."

"Yep."

"Sleep, then?"

"K."

Gabriel had already slipped into a type of "I don't give a shit about anything" coma that rendered him unable to leave Sam. Catching on, Sam bent a little, grabbed Gabe behind the knees, and carried him to the bedroom. He must not have wanted to stand in the kitchen for an indeterminate amount of time. Gabe appreciated his thoughtfulness. They snugged right into each other, Gabe's head on Sam's arm, and Sam's entire body covering Gabe. He was a human forcefield, blocking the outside world. 

The tables had been turned, and now Gabe was being taken care of. Sure it was only for the last couple of hours, but he wasn't as upset about being the weaker one as he thought he might be. He had always been strong for Cassie. He thought he was being strong for Sam. This blow took the wind out of his sails. It felt good to let someone else share the burden of the horrors in life. If felt good not having to been strong when Sam was right there to have his back. 

Even though neither of them knew what was coming, not really, Gabe knew what he wasn't going to let slip through his fingers. He knew Sam was worth whatever fight he had to give. Right after this short nap.

 

Dean and Cas had made it back to town and were standing in Gabriel's living room, looking at a lot of blood. There was a pool of it in the bathroom, smears on some of the fixtures and the mirror, and there were clothes in the hamper covered in it. 

Dean and his icy stare searched every inch of the apartment, hell bent on finding Sam and shooting anything that moved. Cas took a few pictures, and answered the phone when Michael called. 

"Cassie. You and Sam's brother need to meet me. Gabe's driver has been apprehended and we're on our way to debrief him now. Sam and Gabe are at Bungalow A; I want you two at the other one. Something was very fishy about the way we caught this one, like he walked up there, knowing he was going to get caught. The boys couldn't believe how easy it was. However, that means Bungalow A's cover is blown. I'm adding three more teams, and I want you two off the streets. Text me when you are there and flush your phone. I'll have a new one there for you."

"Michael, thank you for the update, but what about all the blood here?"

Dean was by his side and Cas mouthed, 'They're safe.'

"Alfie poured it in Sam's bag, then Sam put the clothes on thinking he was just wet. It was a pretty gruesome scene. I thought I was going to have to shoot him, and Gabe almost swallowed his tongue." Dean was listening, ear to the phone with Cas. Cas hadn't wanted to actually put it on speaker phone, because who knew if the place was bugged or not.

"So we head to B, and you get back with us? We are on another case as well," Cas emphasized the importance of finding information about the man who murdered John, but didn't want to say it aloud. 

"You think the place is bugged, don't you? Get out of there, and get to the safe-house. We need to get together on this," Michael hung up and Cas pointed to the door. 

"I'm not going anywhere else without some answers!" Dean yelled, "I want to know what happened to Sammy, and who I have to kill for his!" he pointed to all the blood, the blood that had made him look pale when he entered and like a soldier now. 

Cas continued to point, "I will tell you everything, but not here."

They were in the car and heading out of town, towards where Cas was directing him while Cas retold the story. Dean was gripping the wheel like he wanted it to crumble in his hands. Both of them were so deep in conversation, they didn't notice the silver Honda following them, three cars back. They didn't notice the way the driver held on to his steering wheel with a lazy grip and a smug half-smile on his face. They never saw the bag on the floorboards that held the knife, the gun, and the rope that bore a resemblance to the rope that squeezed the life from John Winchester's body. If they had, they wouldn't have kept talking and driving straight towards Sam and Gabe.


	21. Wanting the Adorable Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabe wait it out in the safe house, getting a little well needed rest, while Cas and Dean get some unexpected help. Sam needed to forget about things for a while, and Gabe is all to willing to let him do just that.

Sam finally fell asleep and Gabriel's breathing returned to normal. They were, if Alfie was the only threat, safe. They had a few minutes of calm ahead of them. Gabriel had rolled out of Sam's protective embrace and taken another shower, redressed in a pair of jeans he had to roll up, and a real shirt. He felt more himself. He had buttons and a collar: armor. His head was clear from the Sam + Blood Incident, as he was calling it in his head. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and watched Sam sleep. It was dark now, and the street lights glowed softly, peeking around the edges of the curtains. There was just enough yellow light, to frame Sam's face. God, that face. Gabe felt the strings that pulled on his heart, and he knew he'd love this man for the rest of the time he could breathe. Longer. 

They'd learned all the thing about each other that he'd always wanted to know about someone. Sam was truly kind, but strong. He was sensitive and able to show his emotions, but he was also scary as hell if he needed to be. Sam wouldn't back down from a fight in front of him. Gabe had always been the strong one in a relationship, knowing he'd give what he'd have to in order to keep his lovers safe. Sam had actually put himself in the way of danger for Gabe. Real (I've got a gun, get down) kind of danger. 

Gabriel had never been more honest. He didn't try to make Sam figure out what he was feeling. Gabe had enjoyed the relationship-game of "guess what I'm thinking or there'll be consequences" he'd played before. His partners had been good at it too, but there was something about Sam where the truth in his mind always fell out of his mouth. 

All he wanted to do was to keep Sam safe. He wanted this moment to last forever. Watching Sam sleep was at the very top of ALL of his Top Ten Lists. It was the only place he wanted to be, the best feeling he'd ever had, and the only thing he knew he wanted for the rest of his life. He would do what it took to keep it. 

 

Castiel and Dean arrived at the safe house, but didn't park. There were precautions to take. Dean drove around, searching the side streets for folks who were sitting in cars, looking for Michael's men, and looking to see if they were followed. It was dark, and hard to tell who was who and what was where. They decided to park and walk. It would give them the advantage of being able to see what was coming better. Dean found a spot on a corner, four blocks from the house. Baby would be safer there, anyway. If shit went down and bullets started to fly, he didn't want her in the line of fire. 

Dean cleared his throat, "You ready for this?" and looked at Cas. Dean was focused on dealing with this mess and keeping him and his brother safe, but he didn't miss the involuntary muscle contraction in his chest when Cas made eye contact. Later. He could see if that lead anywhere later. 

"Yes, Dean. I'm ready."

They locked Baby up, and headed up the sidewalk. The men scanned the street, the cars, and the buildings as they walked, frequently taking turns looking behind them. No one stood out of made a move. 

"Dean, it's too quiet around here. I think we need to circle back and head to Sam and Gabriel, like we planned," it was barely a whisper, but it felt like Cas was yelling in his ear. That's when Dean heard it, the truck. Not just any truck. 

"Getch'yer dumb asses in here, now!" Bobby pulled up along side the pair, and flung the door open, "You've got Alistair on your tail!"

Dean grabbed Cas by the collar of his trench coat and pushed him inside the cab of the truck. He shoved in next to him, and slammed the door closed.

"You want to tell me what you two idjits are doing WALKING down the street with Alistair following you? I've been tailing him for two days now, and I'm pretty sure he hasn't been on a GoodWill Tour or something, with all the low-lifes he's been chattin' up!"

Dean should have guessed that Bobby'd get involved. He was in the game before he took a bullet to his kneecap, and he was too slow to keep up. He'd taught John everything he knew. Dean never held it against Bobby. John did what he did, and it did put food on the table most nights. Bobby was always trying to get John to leave the boys with him, do the job on his own. He tried. Dean never thought Bobby would get involved, now, though.

"We were on our way to a safe place for the night," Cas started in, using his lawyer-explaining hands and soothing tones. "My brother has a house around here," he continued.

"Yea, I know. Pink with yellow flowers, right? It's all very "little old lady lives here" isn't it? Well Al's been staking that place out for a few hours. I heard the Impala before he did, and I was hoping he'd stay put, but he didn't. He started following you. Why? Not a good reason, huh?" Bobby's gruff chastising voice was strained. Dean knew Bobby was worried. Dean was too. 

"I wondered if Al put us on the trail, just to keep us away from what was happening here. Sam and Gabriel, well- Gabe's assistant was stalking Sam and poured blood in his bag. Cas' brother just caught that guy. We're trying to figure out how its all connected," Dean was checking the mirror, and noticed a car. "Lemme guess, sleazy red firebird behind us?"

Bobby nodded.

"He's not being very clandestine, is he?" Castiel questioned. "It wouldn't be my first choice as a car to sneak up on someone with."

Cas was right. 

"I'm not sure what he's up to, but he was real interested in following you once he caught wind. Now we're screwed because he's following me. I just couldn't leave you two walking, like the dumb asses you are, with me not knowing whose side he's on."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean mumbled, but then added, "I think we'd better end this cat and mouse. Let's go to the shop, and invite him in. I want to find out what this guy wants. If it is what he says, he wanted me to find Azazel, but if he's staking this place out, then we have a problem," Dean looked at Cas, "A problem with your brother."

Cas nodded. Michael's house should have been secure. How did anyone know about it? Why would they have been there ahead of time? "I think there is a leak somewhere in my brother's organization. Michael wouldn't want anyone to know about this place. This is where he stays when he's in town. Something is very wrong."

"Fine. Let's do this. I'm gonna let you handle Al, Dean, but I'mma set up with the shot gun, and if things get weird, I'm just gonna shoot his ass. I never liked that son-of-a-bitch."

They headed to the shop. The place he and Bobby had worked in their normal lives for years. They were inviting their past into their safe, ordinary lives. Dean gripped his fist together and decided, he was going to find some answers. No matter what he had to do. They pulled into the shop, left the gate up, and set themselves up to wait for their visitor to walk inside. 

 

Sam woke up to the smell of hot chocolate. It was still dark, but closer to morning than midnight. Gabe was sitting next to him, reading with the book resting on a pillow in his lap, his left hand palming the mug. It was curled into his chest. Sam watched him uncurl his hand, bring the mug to his lips, and sip briefly. Slowly, his hand flowed down to his chest, and his hand curled the mug back against himself. It was unconscious, methodical, and a moment Sam never wanted to forget.

"Tasty?" Sam asked as he stretched, feeling his muscles regain their consciousness, "Looks good," he huffed out.

Gabe set the mug on the side table, closed the book, and rolled over. His head was Sam's pillow, and his face was almost nose to nose. 

Gabe smiled, "Wanna see?"

Sam leaned in and licked his way into Gabe's mouth, warm, chocolaty, sweet. They didn't rush. Sam lapped at Gabe, enjoying the flavor, the closeness, just that moment with Gabe. He smiled, "Can't sleep?" kissing Gabe's nose and looking back at him.

"Nope. After the sag, I had a second wind. Ate a snack, shower, watched you sleep and eventually decided to read. You crashed hard, handsome."

"Yeah. Adrenaline rushes have their drawbacks."

Gabe brought his hand up to push Sam's locks out of his face and left his hand on Sam's neck. It felt good to feel the steady beat of his pulse. "Yeah, we had a big day, yesterday."

Gabe's thumb swiped Sam's chin, "I need to know what to do here, Sam. Michael thinks he's got us safe, but Alfie made it to the front door. Should we be on watch, peeking out windows, or are we OK?" There was no hysteria in his voice, Gabe wasn't panicked, he was curious. He'd been up because Sam was sleeping. There was no second wind, he was exhausted. He was worried. 

"I think we are fine. Until we aren't. Here is the thing, Gabe. We just don't know. Azazel could be waiting out there, and he could be miles away. We are on the defense here. I'm not good on defense. I'm all offense. All the way. Dean and I, we used to hunker down and wait, but we didn't use our skills until the problem actually showed up. Then we always had a plan of attack. We aren't alone. And while that's good, it is also not giving me any ideas. I wasn't trained to keep someone safe. I was trained to back up my dad and my brother and take someone down. I'm a bit out of my depth here."

Sam's honesty was what Gabe needed. He wanted to know that he wasn't the only one feeling a little out of his depth. 

"So...we could sit here and stress...or..." the smile on Sam's face was more of a leer. He reached in and ran his hands through the flaxen gold, and down his neck, over his shoulder, "we could do something else."

Gabe felt Sam's pulse speed up a notch, "Oh you little devil, you. I'm trying to plan, and..." was all he got out before Sam's mouth was on his. 

Gabe's mouth was less chocolaty, but still sweet and warm. The moan Gabe let out in agreement was even more delicious. It lit up Sam's blood, shot electricity through his body. His hand was on Gabe's hip, grabbing and pulling him closer. Sam needed to feel him, know he was tangible. The roughness of the jeans felt good against his legs. There was enough friction to let his senses know where Gabe was. Sam didn't feel lost. 

 

Gabe shouldn't have been surprised that Sam went straight to sex. Gabe had been making him deal and cope, dodging or downright turning down the musclebound man-child's libido every time it was used to divert them from something emotionally charged. This time, though, Gabe was right on board. There were only a few hours left in this night, and in the morning, something new...something worse might happen. Gabe gave himself over to the hands of his very own sex-god. He wanted the diversion, too. 

Sam was babbling, "Good... Gabe...yes... beautiful..." as his mouth assaulted every inch of flesh in in path. He'd unbuttoned Gabe's shirt so stealthily that Gabe had no idea it was now open. Sam was curling his tongue around Gabe's right nipple, and grabbing his ass as he hummed "Mmmmmm" before moving lower. Gabe felt his spine melt.

Sam's tongue and lips traced over Gabe's stomach, occasionally nibbling at his soft skin, consuming him. Sam's tongue stilled at Gabe's pant line, right at the edge of the denim, where the brass button that lead to the holy land sat waiting to be set free. Then he licked up the soft trail of hair, back to Gabe's belly button. Gabe's dick twitched in the jeans, and Sam laughed, still gripping his hip.

"Not yet," he chuckled, still sucking on Gabe's stomach. He growled, "I need you on your stomach," Sam slid out of the way, as he flipped Gabe over. He pulled Gabe's arms free of the white cloth and straddled Gabe's thighs. 

"I love this cave-man side of you, Samsquatch," Gabe said into the sheets, "What do you have in mind?"

Sam never responded verbally, but Gabe felt warm, wet, velvet sliding over his shoulder, and down his shoulder blade. Gabe gasped, feeling the air knock out of him. All he could smell was Sam's spicy deodorant and his warmth from sleep. He was in a pleasure cocoon, and therefore unwilling to do anything that might jeopardize it.

The exploration of his back continued with Sam's tongue running down his spine, feeling like a feather, turning his limbs to honey. When Sam licked over to his hip, the small bump of a love handle, Sam groaned as he latched onto it, sucking and nibbling. Gabe arched his back and whined, "Ahhhh. OH! Sam, Sam, Sam," before falling back, face rubbing in the sheets. Gabe ground his hips into the mattress. He couldn't stop himself.

Sam took that as an invitation. He left one last lick on his hip and rocked his very hard cock up against Gabe's very clothed ass. Sam's hands were on either side of Gabe's ribs, and Gabe pushed back into him, "Yes. Oh god, yes. Fuck, yes. Sam. Mmmmm," Gabe's lust-thick voice was throaty and begging. Gabe was rocking into Sam and the mattress, every sex molecule in his body firing; he was dangerously close to coming from this.

Sam didn't stop grinding up against him, the pleasure from each slow slide of his hips was too sweet to stop. His nerves were alive, and he couldn't stop looking as the muscles of Gabe's back. They mesmerized him. Sam leaned down on his left elbow and tried to get his mouth on Gabe again, but he couldn't quite reach and there was no way he was stopping the movement of his hips. Sam slid his right arm under Gabe's chest and up to Gabe's left shoulder, pulling him up to his mouth. The deep throaty moan when he was able to get his mouth over the back of Gabe's neck was the dirtiest sound he'd ever head himself make, until he heard himself slurp at Gabe's skin. He wasn't going to last long enough to get the shorts off. He didn't try. He bit down, hearing Gabe stutter out, "G-g-g-g-o. o. o. d!" Gabe's hips rocked into the mattress; Sam felt himself rubbing harder against the thick rough denim, thinking about how he wanted it like this. He wanted to come, fast and hard and rough. He felt his own wetness seep into the fabric shorts. 

Gabe heard Sam groans, and feels the tightening, the tingling. That groan felt like another hand, wrapped around his dick. He wanted Sam to get his clothes off, but at the moment, he didn't care that much. He couldn't think. He just wanted more. He wanted Sam's mouth, the growling in his ear. He wanted Sam to fuck him into the mattress, leaving nothing left.

"Gabe, oh, Gabe. God. Can't believe. Yes. Mine, baby," Sam doesn't make sense, and his skin is crawling with want and need. His toes curled, knowing Gabe was his, it was better than a strip tease. He felt himself get impossibly harder and moved faster against Gabe.

"Sam! Yes! Uhhh!" Gabe shouted out and shuddered beneath him, making Sam pull him closer in his arms. Sam's hips grind out four more times before he comes, leaking the wettness through his shorts onto the skin of Gabe's lower back. 

They laid there, clothed and sticky and happy. The Big-Bad they couldn't name was still outside those walls, outside their world for the moment. Gabe burst the bubble, talking first.

"No complaints about that, Sammy, but can't breathe," He groaned until Sam rolled to the side, bringing Gabe on his side, as the little spoon. 

"I'm sorry, but I think you have a huge hickey on your neck, like big," Sam kissed the mark, then kissed the skin around it and then Gabe's ear, "Sorry."

"I don't care. That was hot as hell. While I believe we should shower and change again, I can't find it in myself to give a shit right now," Gabe raised Sam's hand to his lips and kissed. "I love you, Sam Winchester. Don't you ever leave me."

"Deal," Sam squeezed tighter, "Same goes for you. Promise?"

"Not enough candy or money in the world to make me go anywhere, Babe. You're stuck with me."

Those were the words Sam wanted to hear. The "I love you" was great, but "You're stuck with me" carried even more weight. Stuck with Gabe. He felt a wall around his heart crumble. Gabe had wormed his way inside on that first day, but now there was no escaping him. Sam fell back asleep with a smile on his face and a man in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish I could end it here...but not quite. We have a villain to unmask and some butts to kick. Coming soon! Thanks for the wait... work has been soul-sucking and I had no creative juices. Glad to get back to it! I'm hoping to wrap this one up with a bow by the end of this next week! Fingers crossed!


	22. Bad Guys Aren't Adorable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam needs to get Gabe to safety, and there is only one place to go: Bobby's. What will be there waiting for them?

Sam and Gabe managed to untangle themselves, shower, and change, all by 8:30am. They were drinking coffee when the call came through. 

"I can't find Cas," was all Michael said to Gabriel.

"What in the hell do you mean, 'You can't find Cas?' How did you lose him? I thought you knew where he was?" Gabriel was up, pacing and shouting.

Michael continued, "He and Dean should be at the Safe House I sent them to; they are not. You two haven't heard from them, have you?" He did not sound pleased at the lack of things going to plan. His voice was full of authority, but a twinge of hope was there, too.

"Do you think I'd be shouting at you if I had? Jesus, Michael, how far does this go? Is someone on your team rogue? Giving out important info like where your Safe Houses are? Are they chatting up the old man at the 7-11 or something? I thought you ran a tight ship?" Gabe was in the living room, peeking through the slit in the blinds, searching for the car that was stationed in front. "Your men are gone. Did you send them to another street, or something?"

"Gone?"

"Uh, yeah. As in, no longer where they were yesterday. You mean to tell me that slipped your mind too?"

"Don't go anywhere," Michael said and then ended the call.

Gabe turned to Sam, "We are screwed. Pack all your stuff up, get some shoes on. We need to be ready to run," Gabe barked out, as he walked back into the kitchen. That was when the first shot hit. Blood sprayed the wall and Gabe gripped his shoulder. He curled in on himself and dropped to the ground, dodging the second shot that hit the wall. Boots stomped in the hall, toward Gabe, stopping near him. Sam had the .45 in his hand, body up against the wall. He took a breath and rounded the corner, making sure he had a clean shot, he took it. Sam never stopped walking as he made his way to Gabe. The man went down, dropping his gun, silencer on the muzzle, next to Gabe's head. Sam hadn't aimed for his leg; he shot the man in the head. Sam stepped over the man's lifeless body and started to clear the rest of the house.

"Keep pressure on the wound. I'll be right back. Don't move," Sam whispered, only daring to glance at Gabriel for a moment. The door to the garage was open, and Sam leaned up against the wall, gun in his hands. He nodded at Gabe and swung into the open door. He saw three of Michael's men on the floor. Their car was in the garage. All were dead. He ran back in the house, searching down the hall that lead to the bathroom. There wasn't anyone else there. 

"We are leaving. Now. This is going to hurt," Sam tore the belt off the faceless man on the floor and had it cinched around Gabe's bicep in moments. 

The pain from the tourniquet almost made him black out, but Gabe gritted out, "He's one of Michael's new guys."

"Not anymore," Sam breathed out, picking Gabe up and flinging him over his shoulder. Sam walked into the garage, kicking the fallen men out of his way, making room for him to get Gabriel into the SUV. The keys were still in the ignition. Sam grabbed the gun and a magazine out of the holster of the dead agent in the car, then pushed him out. The gunshot wound would be hard enough to explain, he didn't need a dead body in the car with him. 

"Where we going, Sammy?" Gabe was clutching his arm, barely keeping himself conscious through the pain. He wasn't built for actual physical combat of any kind. He was a verbal sparring expert, but not prepared for anything like this. He'd never even been punched before.

Sam hit the garage door opener, scanned for any movement, and punched it back out of the driveway. The car squealed as he stopped in the street, and threw it into drive. He knew just where he was going. Bobby's. Bobby had been a bounty hunter. The one that taught his dad. He'd had stuff to help Gabe. Then, Sam was going kill someone. Whoever gave the order to hurt Gabe. 

Sam didn't worry about the rules of the road. It was early, and there was no morning commute to worry about. He raced through the streets and squealed around corners. He was worried about Gabe, but had to focus. He had to get Gabe to help. Help that could help him, too. He didn't need to be filling out forms or answering questions. He needed a safe place to get Gabe patched up, and he needed more guns. Hopefully Dean was close by and they could find this douche bag, and everyone he worked for quickly. They body count would add up, but that wasn't his problem.

"Michael?" 

When had Gabe gotten on the phone? Sam snatched the phone from Gabe and barked into it, "You have a mouse in your house, man. All four of those agents are dead, but the one in the house shot Gabe. He is the reason Dean and Cas never made it. I've got Gabe. Fix this and don't follow me," Sam didn't bother hearing what Michael was trying to say as he threw the phone out the window so hard, he saw its shattered pieces being run over behind him. With that he got on and off the freeway twice, trying to get to Bobby's in the least linear way. He hadn't noticed a tail, but fifteen minutes in to the drive, he knew Gabe needed some doctoring fast. The moaning from the passenger side got quieter.

"Gabe! Stay with me man. I need you to talk to me. We're almost there,"Sam used his right hand to push Gabe's hair out of the way, "Come on, babe. You promised," Sam's gut tensed as he waited for Gabriel to start talking.

Gabe grunted, "I told you, had to work harder than that."

Sam blew out the breath that felt acidic in his lungs. 

"I...'mfph...'m fine. Fucking hurts," Gabe was gritting his teeth, trying to breathe through his nose. "We close, yet?"

Sam nodded, "Right around the corner."

The door was open to Bobby's Garage, and that was unusual. The shop wasn't supposed to be open today, but Sam didn't stop. He drove right inside, around the corner to the lift and saw Dean standing there with his Colt trained on the windshield of the SUV.

"Don't try anything stupid, or I'll shoot you through the window. Hands up. Put 'em out the side window," Dean growled like a wolf, cold eyes underlined the words, and Sam had never been happier to see his big brother.

"Dean, it's me! Gabe's hit. Come help!" Sam opened the side door, and drug Gabe out with him. Dean put his gun in waist band of his pants, and walked towards Sam. Castiel, came out of the office, holding a shot gun. He walked behind the SUV, making sure no one drove in behind them. 

"Is he OK?" Castiel asked, not turning around.

Dean answered, "Through and through. Lucky shot. Could have gone right into his lung if he hadn't turned in time."

"I know. Let's just get him stitched up, can we? What's with the open door?" Sam was already laying Gabe on the counter he cleared off, checking for any other injuries.

"Well, Alistair was scoping out where Michael was going to hole us up. Bobby was tracking him. Means Alistair is dirty, and so is someone with Michael."

"Not anymore," groaned Gabriel, "Sam shot him in the head. Three other agents dead at our place. Ow!"

"I'm closing up the shop, Dean. We've got to take care of this. New plan," Bobby was shouting from inside the shop.

"Yes, Dean. New plan." 

A voice that belonged to none of the group was attached to the gun leveled with Dean's skull. 

"Alistair," Dean felt the barrel dig into his hair, "Seems like there could be a nicer way to ask me for help. What's with the gun, dude?"

"Oh, I think you figured that out already, didn't you? Quite a little party here, isn't it? Really Dean, the side door lock was just too easy to pick. Tsk-Tsk. You need to be more careful. Who knows what kind of rif-raf could just waltz in? I was just waiting for Sammy here to show up. Now we can have the little party I was waiting on," Alistair's cool and collected words oozed out of his mouth, but everyone in the room was looking at Dean. One nod and Sam would have a hole in Alistair's smart mouth, going in the other direction. He just couldn't chance a shot going off and hurting Dean.

"He's not that bright,"came another voice, this time from behind the shape of Bobby, who was walking into the office. "I mean, they did leave the door open."

"Well, Dean...Sam...time to meet Azazel. I couldn't let you go without an introduction, now could I?" 

Sam felt his pulse in his eye. There was the man who killed his dad. His brother and uncle were at gun point, and the love of his life was bleeding out on a table. Something was going to happen soon, and Sam was clicking through all the possible scenarios in his head. 

"Al, give the kids a break. I mean, they don't remember nothing. We could just kill 'em all and leave it be," Azazel seemed like he was trying to smooth things over, that murdering everyone would be the easiest course of action. 

Alistair nodded and said, "Sure, sure. But we can't leave that to chance, now can we? I thought you had the key to that safety deposit box the whole time you were in prison, but you didn't. John found it. I went there to get it from him. Said he hid it on you when he brought you in, but he didn't, did he? You didn't get the key when they gave you your personal effects, so now I have to wonder...where did he put that key?" Alistair pushed the barrel into Dean's scalp, letting the metal bite into his skin, "With his boys? That's what I'm thinking."

"We left a long time before dad died. We took what we had. Never gave us a key," Dean grunted, biting his cheek, trying not to react to the words. He knew he had a slim chance to get the drop on Alistair in this position, even with his reflexes. He needed a diversion.

Azazel blinked his yellow eyes and said, "Now, come on Al. Seems legit. Let's wrap things up here and get back on the hunt. We can search 'em after they're dead. So much easier that way."

"You mean like you did with my dad?" Sam spit out, "When you killed him?"

"Oh! You got me mixed up there kiddo. I wasn't anywhere near that mess. That was all Uncle Al's doin', here. He killed dear old dad, all for a bunch 'a money he skimmed off his customers. Lost the key one day. Your daddy found it. That meant he had evidence of what Al was doin', so he had to go."

Sam was proud and pissed off, all in the span of fifteen seconds. His dad didn't drink himself to death, but it was all over him trying to do something good, to catch another crook. The crook who was his boss all those years. No wonder he didn't fight the boys leaving. He probably knew the whole time.

"You keep running your mouth, and you're next," Al hissed, "Tell me where the key is Dean. John didn't have it when I killed him, means he gave it to you. Only reason it wasn't with his stuff. Gotta be you."

"Could be me," came the gravely voice of Cas from behind Alistair. 

That was the opening Dean was looking for. He bowed low, whipping around, hitting Al's arm with his forearm, knocking the gun out of his hands. His left fist landed an upper cut to the man's jaw. Before he had time to wonder if Al was going to fight back, he came back with an elbow to his face, effectively knocking him out. Cas had the shotgun trained on the man as soon as he fell.

Sam and Bobby needed no instructions from Dean. The moment Dean moved, Bobby ducked and Sam shot Azazel's hand, leaving a hole in it and the gun on the ground. Bobby grabbed it while he was bent over and Sam had the man pinned to the wall by his throat.

"Move and I snap your neck," He said, his hand fit easily around the man's neck. A squeeze would be all it would take. 

"Won't be necessary, Sam," Michael said from the door behind Castiel. There were men surrounding the office and more in the bay of the garage, "Cas called. Looks like you boys did a pretty good job without us. How about we take it from here. I've got a few questions of my own for these bastards," Michael pried Sam's fingers off Azazel's neck and snapped behind him. Azazel was out of the way, being dragged out of the garage by two heavily armed men in full SWAT gear.

"Now brother, you seem a little worse for wear," Michael said, smoothing Gabriel's hair out of his face. "I'm guessing, hospital?"

Gabe nodded. 

"Good. Sam, take the car and Zachariah. He'll smooth things over at the ER. Get my brother patched up. I'll be by later."

Sam looked at Dean, and Dean nodded at him, "I'm good, Sammy. Go."

Sam carried Gabriel and pulled him into the backseat with him. Sam let the Zachariah drive, and held onto Gabriel, as gently as he could, willing the car to beam itself to the hospital.

 

Cas hadn't looked up at his brother, keeping the shotgun on Alistair. Dean's foot had been on his throat since he stopped sliding. Michael put his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Let me take it from here, Dean. I have more than a few questions for this guy about my agents. I'll make sure he doesn't see the light of day. If he ends up breathing after today, that is. Accidents happen." Michael flippantly opened his left hand, shrugging away any concern for the fate of Alistair, "You three need to be somewhere else. We'll clean up here. Go get a burger. A beer. Just don't head home. Here's a new phone. I'll be in touch."

Cas passed the gun to Michael and side stepped over Alistair's unconscious body. He put his hand in the center of Dean's back, pushing in out of the office and into the garage. Bobby had already started up the truck, wanting to be the hell away from this mess. God forbid anyone was looking in at the chaos.

Cas said, as they drove out on to the street, "I think an hamburger would make me very happy," and patted Dean's thigh. "I know a good diner."

Dean took a deep breath and leaned back in the seat, "Sounds good to be as long as they serve beer with breakfast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think one more folks!


	23. Adorable Happy Ending

The time Gabriel spent in the hospital was actually shorter than anyone expected. There was a quick surgery to make sure there was no internal bleeding, but the shot was very clean. He was lucky. Sam hadn't left the hospital until Gabe was brought home. He only returned to school after he was sure Gabriel was going to be able to sustain on his own, and only if Cas promised to Gabe-sit. 

The first few days after he returned were a blur. Sam spent most of his time looking over his shoulder, but feeling really good about doing something normal. A few short weeks ago, he was a boring teacher whose nights were only exciting if he drank three beers on a Tuesday. Now, he went home to Gabe and changed the bandage from his gunshot wound, and texted his brother a few times a day, just to get a response. They were both like that now, more obviously protective of each other. 

"Mr. Winchester, are you doing OK?" Ash blurt out while Sam was trying to edit some of their writing.

Sam looked up, "Yeah, Ash. Why do you ask?" Sam's brown furrowed, and he put down the pen he realized he was still holding, poised, and ready to catch an error. 

"It's just, you've been different since you came back from being sick. You and your boyfriend OK?"

"Did Becky put you up to this?" Sam smiled at Becky, but she shook her head.

"No. He's gone rogue. No one was suppose to bother you for another three days. We assumed break up, but then you didn't look sad. You just looked preoccupied. Something is different about you, we just can't figure it out," she confessed. The heads around her nodded, and they looked sincerely concerned. 

Sam stood up and leaned against his desk, "OK. I'm fine. I had some...family drama, let's just say. There was some baggage from my past that came up, and I'm dealing with it. Gabe and I are fine," he smiled and looked down at the floor. He couldn't believe he was telling them this, "He got hurt, so I've been taking care of him. I also found out that my dad died trying to do the right thing. Kinda gave me a new lens of my life, that way. I shouldn't be telling you any of this," Sam shook his head and started walking back around to his seat. 

"So, Mr. Winchester...is your boyfriend gonna be OK?" Ash continued. 

"Yeah, am I?" Gabe was leaning against the jam of the open door, in his suit, black tie. No sling. He was in so much trouble, but damn if he didn't look fine. 

Becky gasped and the whole class seemed to hold their breaths.

Gabriel waved at the group, "I'm sorry to interrupt class, but I wanted to drop these off for the man who saved my life."

He had a bouquet of flowers, much nicer than the ones he had given Sam on that odd second date in his apartment...while he had been drunk. It was a filled with reds and yellows and oranges, Sam didn't know the names of the flowers, but that didn't stop him from smiling with the power of the sun at Gabriel.

"Saved his life? Man! What happened?" Ash yelled from his seat.

Gabe winked at Sam and turned to the boy, "Well, I had invited Mr. Winchester over for pancakes. I am a master chef in the kitchen and as I was trying to win his heart...pancakes were my go-to! He arrived just in time to watch me flip the first batch when a man broke into my house to rob me. The guy shot me in the arm, and Sam jumped over the table, knocked the gun out of his hand and punched him out. He applied pressure to my wound, called 911, and managed to keep the intruder subdued the whole time. Never left the hospital while I was in surgery. He actually saved my life. You are in the class of a bona-fide hero," Gabe gestured with his good arm, towards Sam, enjoying the blush. 

The students were a twitter, talking all at once and looking at Sam with a renewed sense of admiration. 

"Really?"Sam whispered to Gabriel, "Couldn't have given a more abbreviated story?"

"What? I left out all sorts of good bits that weren't appropriate! You should be proud of that revision!" Gabe looked innocent, but Sam knew that to be so far from the truth. 

"Um, so you're the Gabriel that's been texting all the time?" Becky asked, "You're the boyfriend?" She could barely contain the giddiness.

"You bet your iPhone I am! Luckiest guy in the world," Gabriel smiled at Sam, "Speaking of which, lunch?"

"Yeah. I'll see you then," Sam waved as Gabriel strutted out the door, looking like a million dollars, winking one last time at the class. "Idiot," Sam mumbled at his goofy boyfriend.

"Dang, Mr. Winchester! Is he famous or something?" Ash called again, "I mean, he looks like Tony Stark or something. 

Sam laughed, "I'll tell him you said that. He'll love it. He's a lawyer. OK, enough of the distractions. Just because Gabe stopped by and riled you guys up, doesn't mean y'all don't have an assignment due tomorrow."

"But, did you really do all that? Save him?" Kevin pipped up from the back. 

"Yeah. But he saved me too. We had each other's back. Speaking of which, who is going to have your back if you don't turn in that essay tomorrow. Let me get back to the pre-edits!"

Sam picked the pen back up, but his mind wasn't really there. He was thinking about how lucky he was to have Gabe. He was remembering all they survived and how he'd do it all again, if he could ensure to the world that he'd never have to go without Gabriel. Sappy, love-sick fool.

The bell rang, and before too long, it was lunch. Gabriel had returned with Chinese take-out: stir fry for Sam and noodles for Gabe. They ate in the teacher's lounge, after Sam had the chance to introduce him around. He was expecting some snide remarks to stares, but Gabriel had a way about him. Everyone was smitten and couldn't wait for their chance to bask in his glow. They barely got fifteen minutes together to shovel in some food.

"So, Cas and Dean are officially dating. They are going to the movies tonight. Cas is actually giddy. It is disturbing," Gabriel shivered. 

Sam chuckled and nodded while he chewed. He swallowed that bite and agreed, "Yeah, Dean must have run seven different scenarios past me before he decided on movies. He hasn't picked WHICH movie, but they've narrowed it down to the theater next to the diner that serves pie. Those two are a train wreck."

"You mean unlike us?"

"Hey. We are perfect," Sam grinned, "We were able to get the dating thing going without hours and hours of therapy from our brothers. I'm happy they are happy, but man!"

Gabe cleared his throat and leaned forward, "So, Michael says not to ask about you know who,"the whisper was so quiet, Sam was sure no one else heard. "There isn't going to be a trial, so to speak. Not sure what they found on those two, but he said, not to ask. So I'm not askin'!" 

Sam nodded. He'd figured that something like that was the case. It was pretty quiet from that camp. Honestly, he'd rather it went down like that. Sam was never connected to the shooting in the safe house. Michael took care of that, as he was the owner of the house. The agents and the whole event in Bobby's shop...none of it made it to local cops or the news. Sam was on edge for a bit, but then Gabriel made him remember that this was Michael's area of expertise. He was in the "Don't ask because it never happened" business. And none of that officially happened. The daylight robbery was the official story they went with for Gabe's injuries. It was just easier.

Sam wiped a piece of carrot off Gabriel's face with his thumb, and Gabe grabbed it, licked the carrot off, and then kissed his thumb. 

"I'm thinking tonight, Sammikins," Gabriel teased him.

"Oh you think you're ready for that, do you?" Sam leaned closer, but not so close that it gave the staff who were gawking at them any additional fodder. "I'm not sure you're up to it," Sam nudged him with his shoulder.

Gabe smiled with teeth, "Oh, baby...I'm UP for it right now, but this isn't the time. Maybe the place...but not the time," Gabe winked. 

"Really? Here?" Sam looked at him in disbelief.

"Oh Mr. Winchester, you bet your ass, I mean it! I have had a few kinky dreams about this place since I started dating a teacher,"Gabe gave the old eyebrow waggle and leaned back into Sam. "Besides, the bookstore can't be our only wild place. Gotta have some stories to tell the grandkids. Ya know, so to speak."

Sam paused with his broccoli half way to his mouth, "Grandkids?"

"Well, you said Vegas, then I said we could wait a bit. I figured, why wait any longer. I mean, we almost died. I could have died. You could have...I'm just saying there is not time like the present." Gabe kept plowing on while Sam just stared at him.

"I'm thinking we adopt in a few years, and depending on the age of the kids...boom! Grandkids by the time we're sixty-five!"Gabe's hands hand flown from the table to beside his head to emphasize the "boom" and a giddy smile was plastered on his face. "I don't wanna live in a cold, dark house without the pitter-patter of little or big feet. I wanna have all that with my favorite Samsquatch. That's you, by the way," Gabe gestured his thumb towards Sam.

"Yeah, I guessed it would be me," he grinned, "But, kids? You want kids...with me? I don't have a lot of practice with good parenting. Are you sure?" Sam was nervous, and fiddled with his fork.

"What, you think I did? You're adorable!"Gabe booped his nose. "But we'll figure it out together. What do you say, Sam? Want to marry me and fill our house with children who will eat all our food and take us for granted?"

Sam was about to laugh it off, when he saw the box in front of Gabe. There was a box, a black box in front of Gabe. Sam stopped breathing.

"Look, Sammy. Here is the verdict: I love you," Gabriel stood up and then was down on one knee, right there in the staff room, "And though you are wildly out of my league, I'd love to make you legally required to love me for the rest of your life... while you're having a moment of weakness, not realizing you could do better," Gabe's smile was like looking into the sun, bright, blinding, and it warmed his heart. 

Sam looked from him to the box, and replayed the last few seconds in his head. It was too soon, they should wait. But he couldn't think of his life without Gabe in it. He didn't want to. 

"I'm not sure if you wore me down, or what, but I'd better help you off the ground, old man...before you get stuck there. Of course I'll marry you, you idiot."

Gabe opened the box to find a platinum ring with two diamonds side by side in the band. Sam held still as Gabe slipped the ring on his finger. Sam bent down and kissed Gabe. He kissed his boyfriend, no...his fiance, right in the middle of the staff lounge, and the staff lost their minds. There was clapping and hooting! Everyone came and pat them on the back, congratulating them. Sam was in a haze and the bell rang. 

"Damn you, Novak. I have to go back and teach now. How am I supposed to let you go?" Sam had kept his arm around Gabe the whole time everyone was talking to him, and now the thought of leaving him was physically painful.

"That's the beauty, Sammy. You never have really leave me. Look inside the ring," Gabe kissed him and walked out of the room, waving at the others as they hustled to their rooms. 

"Cocky bastard. God, I love him," Sam muttered and took off the ring. It read GABE LOVES SAMSQUATCH on the inside. He laughed and headed to his next class. Before he got to the door, kids from his other classes were crowding around.

"Is it true?"

"Let me see! Don't push!"

"Mr. Winchester!!"

Sam opened the door and waved the kids into class, "You all better get moving, or you're going to be late," he pointed at Ash and Becky.

Then, Jo walked up started screeching, "Look at his hand!! Oh my god! It's true!!!!"

Sam nodded. It was true. He had said yes to the rest of his life. Possibly multiple children, a brood of grandchildren, and a whole lot of Gabe. That adorable man was all his. Forever.


End file.
